


Smoke & Mirrors

by ladyamesindy



Series: Lysette Cousland [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 81,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyamesindy/pseuds/ladyamesindy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Alistair is fast becoming a popular ruler of Ferelden. Or is he? Assassination attempts, the queen being kidnapped - perhaps "the people" who "love him" may be outnumbered by those that do not...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Story originally published in 2010.

Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden, rose to his full height, which compared to the Orlesians standing before him in the open fields to the west of Redcliffe was considerable, and turned towards his guards and said, "Take them to the dungeons of the keep until I decide what their punishment shall be." The guards nodded, leading the three men away. Then turning towards the guard who had been recording the proceedings, he ordered, "I will expect to have that drawn up by this evening."

"Of course, your Majesty," the man returned before turning to return to the keep where he would transcribe his notes into a formal document for the king's approval.

Alistair then turned to face Fergus Cousland, Teyrn of Highever, who stood off to the right a bit, but close enough to visibly show his support of the king. "What in the Maker's name are you smirking at?" he demanded, attempting to sound sharp and regal, but realizing that he had failed miserably when the teyrn had to lift his hand to cover an imagined cough, the amusement lighting the man's bluish-green eyes.

Alistair gestured the teyrn, a man who was rapidly becoming as good a friend to him as his sister had been during the Blight, to follow him. As they covered the distance between the field of battle and the keep, Alistair heard the teyrn saying, "I must say, that was a rather ... unique set of terms for their surrender."

Alistair eyed his friend warily. "Do you think the lifetime supply of Orlesian brie was a bit much?" he queried innocently. Fergus, the king noted, could no longer contain his mirth, bending double and laughing aloud. Sighing heavily, and muttering beneath his breath, Alistair strode ahead and managed a sizable distance between them for a short time.

When Fergus returned to Alistair's side, he was saying, "Now, Alistair, you did a find job for your first time accepting a surrender. The lowering of taxes on imported goods into Orlais, or at least their region, and the immediate removal of all men and equipment were perfect. I'm just at a loss as to the cheese ..."

"Well, you know they make the best?" He watched the teyrn nod in understanding. "And that my tastes can be more refined that simple cheddars and the like." Another nod. Sighing, Alistair realized he would have to tell him everything. Pulling his friend to a halt just before entering the gates to Redcliffe castle, Alistair turned and gestured his guards to continue. "Do not tell Leliana I said this, but it also gives me justification to have men disguised as merchants to enter the country and do a bit of - shall we call it, reconnaissance - on a frequent basis in order to keep our friends in line?"

Alistair heard the teyrn gasp in surprise, saw the emotion fill his eyes and for a brief moment wondered if he had over-thought the situation. "Alistair ... that is ... brilliant!" Fergus breathed quietly. "But, do you really think the Empress will allow it? I mean, surely she will know ...?"

Alistair chuckled, turning to head into the keep proper, Fergus following. "I do not doubt that she will be wary of my motives at first," he explained, "but I am sure she has heard of my love of fine cheese by now. Also, she knows I am simply a 'babe-in-the-woods' when it comes to politics. All that plus the explanatory letter I will send, complete with royal grievances of a personal nature at having had my royal person unprovokingly attacked by several of her subjects on Ferelden land no less, ... how can she refuse? Hmm?"

Alistair heard the chuckle from his friend as they continued across the courtyard towards the stairs leading indoors. He was about to begin the ascent when he heard a distinctive series of whistles. Recognizing them immediately, he murmured, "Remember, not a word to Leliana!" the king turned to see his bardic friend being halted at the gates. Pointing Fergus in the same direction, he said, "Come on, my friend, before she gets herself killed by overly reactive guards!"


	2. Chapter 2

Alistair sat back in his chair and sighed softly in contentment. The first Landsmeet of the year was complete, and (save the usual murmurs and rumblings about the necessity for him to marry) without any major incident. Now he could take a bit of time and sit back, relax ... and enjoy the company of good friends. This evening they were gathered in the sitting room of his royal apartments, Fergus and Leliana Cousland, now visibly pregnant (which had startled Alistair somewhat to see his friend in such a condition, but she had simply giggled and told him, "It is the usual byproduct of a marriage, is it not?"), Lysette, Teagan and little Branwyn Guerrin. They had taken the opportunity to have a little ... reunion of sorts, enjoying a meal together, recollecting adventures from their journeys during the Blight ...

Alistair's attention was caught by little Branwyn, now almost two years of age, as she toddled around the room and ended up, where she inevitably always would, at the king's side. Alistair gave her a silly grin before reaching his hand down to her. She liked to grasp onto it as he lifted her onto his lap where she would cuddle up against him, usually falling asleep within minutes of arriving at her favored destination. As he lifted her this time, Alistair found himself eye to eye with the miniature version of her mother, her blue eyes giving him a "you know you wanna love me" look. Chuckling softly, he pulled the child close, heard her giggle sweetly as she settled, and then felt her pull his arm around her, holding her close.  _I could almost get used to this,_  he thought as he gave in to the child's easy demand.

"So, my friend," Lysette was saying from her position on the settle near her husband, "have you given any thought to my proposal?"

Alistair blinked, glancing up from Branwyn to her mother. "Seeing as you only suggested it to me this afternoon, right before the Landsmeet session ..."

Lysette grinned. "Ah, but I got you looking, didn't I?" she challenged. "And don't you deny it!"

Alistair blushed slightly, ignoring her taunts. "I looked at many people this afternoon - it's hard not to when you're the king, remember? No one particular person caught my attention -"

"Oh, Alistair," Leliana giggled, "you still are so naive! Even I saw you staring at her!"

Alistair sighed and rolled his eyes upwards to stare at the ceiling. "Why can you not understand that as king I am  _supposed_  to look at people? That I have to give them my attention?"

Lysette chuckled. "All I am saying, my friend, is that she is smart, intelligent ... and she is well liked by the people. I think you two would be well suited. As I recall," Lysette added with a wink at her friend, "you commented on her at the Landsmeet after our confrontation with Loghain ... or was I mistaken?"

_They left the Landsmeet hall side by side, headed back towards Arl Eamon's estate to meet up with their companions before proceeding to Redcliffe to gather their allies together before battling the archdemon. "Well," Alistair observed as they walked through the Market District, "that went better than I expected."_

_Lysette grinned up at him, amusement clearly taking over her usually intense features as of late. "When will you believe me when I tell you these things?" she queried. "I have much more experience with the nobles than you. You were meant to be king, Alistair, and the nobles showed you that this afternoon."_

_Alistair shook his head. "I still don't get it," he replied, genuine confusion in his voice. "I mean, I understand that some of them ... well, certainly Bann Sighard and Bann Alfstanna must have thought that they owed us something in return for rescuing their loved ones ... I understand that, but Arl Wulff? Why would he support us like he did?"_

_Lysette's smile was begging to burst into laughter, but she managed to hold on to it so that she wouldn't hurt her friend's feelings. He would figure things out eventually._

" _And then," he added, "why was everyone looking to Bann Alfstanna to be the spokesperson? Should it not have been Arl Eamon or Arl Wulff?"_

_Lysette did chuckle at this. "Think about it, Alistair: if Arl Eamon had tried to mediate things, the nobles would have immediately assumed he was making a play for the throne through you. He knew this, and therefore stayed in the background. It was enough that he bring attention to it by calling the Landsmeet. As for Arl Wulff, well, he could have stepped forward but I suspect he is still too caught up in what has happened. Remember, the man has not only lost his arling to the darkspawn, but his sons as well. He and Alfstanna know each other quite well. I'm sure part of the reason she took charge as she did had to do with her trying to make things easier for him. Additionally, Bann Alfstanna is very highly respected by all the nobles. She took over the Bann of Waking Sea after her father's death when she was only eighteen, since her brother was a templar, and she has governed it quite well."_

_Alistair's only response was, "Hmmm ... I think I understand ..."_

_Lysette patted his arm as they entered Arl Eamon's estate and headed towards the great hall where they had pre-arranged to meet the others. "You will find it easier to understand as you take on more of the royal duties when this is all over," she assured him. "Just remember that people like Alfstanna are important to have on your side, and given what just happened, I think you have nothing to worry about in that regard."_

_They entered the room then, and Alistair found himself drifting back over their conversation. That Bann Alfstanna would have taken charge as she had done still amazed him, despite what Lysette had told him ... and he had to admit, she was easy on the eyes ..._

"I simply asked why she took over control of the Landsmeet there at the end," he retorted, but knew by the sparkle in Leliana's eyes as she clapped gleefully that he had not managed to hide his perpetual blush when discussing the opposite sex. Sighing heavily, Alistair settled back into his chair and glanced down at Branwyn who was still snuggled up against him. "How about I simply wait and make you my queen, hmm?" he murmured to her.

Lysette, knowing exactly what her friend was about, chortled, "Ah, but your Majesty, my daughter will grow up to have a headstrong nature like her mother. Are you sure that is what you want?"

Finally giving in, the king replied, "I will consider Alfstanna, will that satisfy you? Eamon has been talking of other possible women as well, I shall simply add her to the list ..."

Lysette and Leliana exchanged a glance, though Alistair was quick to note that neither Fergus nor Teagan was getting involved in the discussion. When glancing at his friends, both men chuckled and gave him a look that clearly said, "Leave me out of this!"

"Keep in mind, Alistair," Leliana murmured, "you know us and we know you. I would suspect that we would be able to match you up with someone more to your liking than Chancellor Eamon might be able to, yes? His concern is for you to find someone with whom to have a child. Ours is the concern of one friend to another, to help you find someone ... compatible."

 _There is that_ , he told himself.

"Just take the time to talk with her," Lysette suggested. "Even if it is only over lunch, or dinner or something. I've known her most of my life, Alistair, and I think she would be a perfect match ..."

* * *

Within a week, Alistair found himself having lunch with Fergus, Teagan and several of the Banns who remained in Denerim after the breakup of the Landsmeet, including Alfstanna. Though he suspected that Lysette and Leliana had wrangled their husbands into participating, Alistair had to admit that the event was carried off well and gave him opportunities to discuss certain issues with the nobles in a somewhat less formal setting than usually surrounded events during a Landsmeet session.

The luncheon was held in a hall near the rear of the palace that contained access to the royal gardens. As part of the informal discussions after the meal, Alistair had requested that access to the gardens be made available to everyone in attendance, and nearly all had taken up the opportunity given the recent break in cold weather as Wintermarch gave way to Guardian on the calendar. Waiting for the others to depart first, Alistair held back with Teagan and Fergus before following outdoors. "How much longer will you remain in Denerim?" Alistair asked Fergus as he eyed the guests who were searching each other out.

Fergus sighed. "About a month or so," he replied. "Leliana wants to purchase things for the baby, but I want to be sure we are back in Highever and settled in well before it arrives!"

Teagan chuckled. "At least you have had time to prepare, brother," he teased. "As I recall, your sister was not so inclined!" All three men chuckled at this as they recalled the circumstances of Branwyn Guerrin's birth.

"When will you head back to Redcliffe?" the king asked then, directing his question to the Arl.

"Most likely about the same time," Teagan replied. "Though, Lys mentioned something about going up to Amaranthine to check up on the Wardens there."

Alistair stole a look at Fergus who appeared comfortable enough at the mention of his sister's former order. Upon her departure as Warden Commander, Lysette had struggled with her decision in appointing her replacement. In the end, she had chosen Nathaniel Howe, the son of the man who had destroyed the Couslands' lives at the beginning of the Blight. To her credit, she had taken the time to speak with both Alistair and Fergus before making her decision, and though Fergus still harbored some ill will simply because of Nathaniel's bloodline, he had ultimately agreed with Lysette's decision. Since that time, the new Warden Commander, a noble born and bred, had taken up the reins of the order (with, at long last, Weisshaupt's approval) with distinction and, surprisingly, enthusiasm.

Fergus actually snorted softly at Teagan's comment. "Perhaps you need to keep her ... more occupied?" he teased.

Alistair rolled his eyes, sensing that Fergus was about to roll the conversation around to him at any given moment. Then, spying the one of the Bann's alone up ahead, Alistair excused himself by saying, "Well, then I am certain to see you all many times before you leave. If you will excuse me ...?" He smiled to himself as he left them, knowing and expecting that they would give him a thorough razzing over it later, but if it meant an end to their teasing natures ...

"Bann Alfstanna?" Alistair called softly as he approached. He could see that her attentions were drawn elsewhere and he certainly did not want to startle her with his approach.

Alfstanna heard the king's voice behind her and smiled. Lysette had discussed with her recently the idea of marriage to the king. Though Alfstanna had been a bit uncertain at the idea, seeing that she was a single woman of noble rank, and therefore a suitable match, she had agreed with her friend to give the opportunity some thought. Turning now, she found the man in question standing beside her. "Good afternoon, your Majesty," she told him with a slight curtsy. Then turning back towards the gardens, she added, "I must say your gardens seem to have recovered well from the Blight."

Alistair smiled through his initial confusion.  _She wants to talk about the gardens?_  "Yes, er ...," Alistair suddenly felt completely out of place. Sighing inwardly, he wondered where Zevran was now that he really needed him! Instead of replying to her comment, he offered her his arm and asked, "Would you ... care to walk with me for a few moments?"

Alfstanna nodded, looping her arm through his. Lysette had told him, though she had already known, that the king had been raised by the Chantry and often found himself uncomfortable around women. She had experienced this before with her brother, so Alfstanna felt that she would be able to handle it perhaps better than most women would. "Of course," she agreed as they began following the cobblestone path.

"I have been wanting to ask you," Alistair began, "how does your brother fare?" Alistair had been part of the group that had rescued the templar, Irminric, from Howe's dungeons during the Blight. The poor man had been half-mad from lyrium withdrawal at the time, and once they had informed Alfstanna of his condition, she had immediately gone to find him. Alistair had heard since that time that Alfstanna had taken her brother back to their estate in the Bann of Waking Sea to recuperate.

Alfstanna smiled gently, realizing that though the king might not be used to interacting with women, he had found the one topic that perhaps meant most to her. "He is doing very well, your Majesty, thank you for asking," she replied. "I believe you are aware he is at our estate in Stormgard?"

Alistair nodded. He remembered the first time he'd heard the name of the estate and the surrounding village. The name had intrigued him and he'd done some research. It was named  _Stormgard_  because of its location atop the cliffs along the Waking Sea, and had in the past served as an outpost to watch for severe storms approaching from the east. As such, a moderately sized village had grown up around the area, and when Alfstanna's ancestors had inherited the title of Bann, given that this was their ancestral home, it then became the location of the Bann's estate.

"Irminric has finally recovered from his lyrium addiction," she told him quietly. With a glance up at him she asked, "I understand that you were once a templar ...?"

Alistair could see the direction of her line of thinking and was quick to assure her, "I was recruited by the Grey Wardens before I ever started taking the required doses of lyrium."

"Ah," she said softly. They continued to walk as she continued, "Well, Irminric is finally free of it, but it has left him ... fragile?" She frowned slightly. "Hmm, I am not quite sure that is the right word. Physically he is recovered, emotionally and mentally however ..." Alfstanna sighed.

Alistair found himself searching for something to say. "I would imagine that being at Stormgard would make things easier for him in that regard," he finally managed and hoped it did not sound as lame to her as it did to him.

Alfstanna smiled up at him. "It has, actually," she offered. "Being in a familiar place, with familiar people surrounding him, being able to go to the places where we played as children ... all of that has been helping him ..."

Across the gardens, Fergus and Teagan stood near the doorway to the hall, watching in some amusement as Alistair started walking off with Bann Alfstanna. "Well," Fergus said, "he  _is_  making an effort."

Teagan chuckled. "Somehow I think he's more afraid of facing Lys and Leliana if he doesn't!"

Fergus laughed along with his friend. "Wouldn't you be too?" he challenged. Out of respect for their friend and king, they kept their laughter to a dull roar.

"Who is that with Alistair?" came a deeper, older voice from behind them.

Teagan sighed, glancing sideways at Fergus. "That would be Bann Alfstanna, brother," Teagan replied, turning to face Eamon. Teagan spared his brother a long glance, concern growing. It had been two years since Isolde's death, and Eamon had taken it very hard at first, verbally berating himself for the amount of time he had dedicated to helping Alistair take and then keep the throne. More recently, Teagan had started to think that perhaps Eamon was coming to terms with her death. Alistair had even arranged for the man to visit Connor more frequently at the Circle in an effort to help both of them heal with the loss.

"Ahh," Eamon replied, nodding as he watched the couple moving throughout the gardens.

"I am a bit surprised you had not suggested it to him yourself, brother," Teagan added. "You have managed to provide him with a list of just about every other eligible nobleman's daughter."

Rather than taking offense, Eamon chuckled and patted his brother's shoulder. "Oh, I was considering her, have no doubt about that," he replied. He watched the younger men exchange a look and smiled. "I'm not a heartless old man you know," he told them. "Though I do believe the main focus for him should be in producing an heir, I am still able to realize the fact that your wives suggesting her certainly seems to have intrigued him. And if that is what it takes ..."


	3. Chapter 3

Alistair's pacing was driving Lysette insane as they waited just outside the royal stables. Upon prior arrangement, the king and Alfstanna had agreed to meet there on this afternoon in order to go for a ride. "Why are you nervous?" she finally demanded of him, hoping that perhaps by provoking him he would release the nervous energy once and for all. "You spent most of the afternoon talking to her last week!"

Alistair stopped his movements, turning to face her. It was a testament to just how nervous he was that he ran a hand through his normally well kept hair. He saw Lysette's brow raise at that and he quickly lowered his hand back to his side. He knew he hadn't messed it up that much; since the end of the Blight and becoming king, he had allowed his hair to grow longer. Though not nearly as long as his father or brother had worn theirs, it was finally beginning to reach unchartered lengths ... at least to his mind. "You don't think this gift is too ... extravagant, do you?" he asked nervously. "Too much too soon?"

Lysette sighed. "Your Majesty ...," she reached out and grasped his arm. When he didn't react to her using his formal title, she knew his nerves were getting the better of him. "Alistair, relax. As I recall, you told me that you both agreed that the match between you would be ideal, yes?"

Alistair nodded before swallowing hard, his gaze now traveling beyond her in the direction of the palace.  _On parchment, yes_ , he thought.  _In actuality ..._  "That does not necessarily make this any easier," he told her tightly. "What if I -"

Lysette patted his arm gently, something she vaguely remembered Wynne doing a few times during the Blight as it became clear he would pursue the throne. As with the elderly mage's attentions, Lysette's actions seemed to calm him. "Alistair, keep in mind she is in a similar situation as you. For the past two years or so she has been focused on her brother and helping him heal. Before that, she took over the position of Bann from her father when she was eighteen." She squeezed his forearm tightly for just a moment until he looked at her. "You are both good, kind people and deserve this. Relax, let it take its course ..."

* * *

Alfstanna found Violette in her study before she left her estate for the royal stables. "Violette?" she called upon entering the room.

"Yes, my lady?"

"I will be riding with the king this afternoon," Alfstanna announced as she shrugged into the cloak she wore when out of doors. "Should you need to find me, check the royal stables first."

Violette smiled softly to herself. "Yes, my lady," she returned politely.

Alfstanna's gaze caught her secretary's and held for a moment. Lifting a brow in question, she asked, "What?"

Violette tried to recover herself, attempting to swallow a smirk, but knew that she had failed as her mistress continued to hold her look. Sighing softly, she replied, "I am simply happy to see you thinking about yourself for a change, my lady. That is all."

Alfstanna smiled at the woman who was more than just her secretary: she was a true friend as well. They had both grown up together at Stormgard, Violette's father being seneschal for Alfstanna's father; it had only been natural that Violette take over as Alfstanna's secretary upon her ascending to the position of Bann. She had also been there to help unquestioningly with Irminric's recovery. "Thanks, V," Alfstanna replied fondly. Then, straightening her stance and attempting to assume a somewhat calm and collected composure to hide the nervousness she was beginning to feel, the Bann turned towards the doorway. "I will be back later this afternoon."

"Yes, my lady. Shall I ask Clare to have a hot bath waiting for you upon your return?" Violette asked, her smirk much more evident this time.

Alfstanna turned back for a moment and grinned at the woman. "No matter how long I have been in the city, I am not  _that_  out of practice riding!" she admonished lightly.

"This is true, my lady," Violette returned teasingly. Both women were avid equestriennes and enjoyed teasing the other whenever opportunity arose. "It only took you three days to recover from your trip to Denerim this time, not the usual six ... a definite sign of improvement."

Alfstanna snorted softly as she walked through the door. Giving Violette a broad wink, she retorted, "Three days indeed ...!"

* * *

"Do you trust me?" Alistair asked quietly as he led Alfstanna into the stables. Lysette had just departed her friends which left the king feeling anxious again. It had taken all he had within him to conquer his nerves and turn his attention towards his guest. Now, looking down at her as they walked, he watched her gaze lift to his for a moment, a small smile playing at her lips, a smirk of amusement in her eyes, but she nodded immediately in response to his question. "Then close your eyes for a moment," he said before saying a silent prayer.

Once his request had been agreed to, Alistair waved over at the stable master, indicating that it was time. She disappeared towards one of the stalls in the back of the building, returning moments later, reins in hand, barely noticeable "clop-clopping" of hooves along the hay-strewn floor. "I hope you do not mind me offering a small token of ... affection this early in our relationship," he told her softly. Alistair watched Alfstanna closely as her emerald eyes opened slowly at his words. She was silent for a long moment, taking in what stood in before her and her mind processed the entirety of it. "Oh!" Biting his lip, he couldn't decide if the soft gasp had been a good "oh" or a bad "oh."

Alfstanna reached a hand out to touch the beautiful red bay creature that stood in front of her. His coat shone with a gloss that would have had her suspecting he had been rubbed with some special oils to make it so had she not been familiar with the breed already. "You are a lovely boy, aren't you," she murmured softly, stroking his nose and allowing him to catch her scent. She stepped forward to lean her head into his neck as the stable master handed her the reins. "So strong, so handsome ..."

Alistair was slightly encouraged by her reaction to the gift. "I had thought at first you might like jewels ...," he said quietly as she walked around the animal. He was fascinated as she examined the stallion: running her hands along his flanks, his shoulders, his legs and feet, opening his mouth and examining the teeth ...

"No," Alfstanna said softly, "he is perfect." She moved back to stand beside the king. Glancing up at him, she smiled. "I much prefer a horse to jewels any day. Thank you, your Majesty. He's magnificent."

Alistair managed one of his lopsided grins then, one of the ones that Lys had once told him was undeniably charming. "Please, Alfstanna, call me Alistair."

Still smiling, she nodded. "I will ... see what I can do in that regard," she promised.

After a brief moment in which they held each other's gaze, Alistair cleared his throat and announced, "The horse is an Antivan Paso. I was assured that he was descended from one of the finest lines that has been bred there ..."

Alfstanna bit the inside of her mouth to keep from smiling. It was clear he was telling her things that someone had prompted him on, but the fact that he would even bother to try impressed her more. "What is his name?" she asked.

Closing his eyes, Alistair thought back to what he'd seen written down. "El Piceron de la Amistad, but I was told that he also goes by Pic. Apparently, Piceron means 'mischievous.'"

Alfstanna turned to look at the horse again as she leaned her forehead against the animal's nose. "Are you willing to test that?" she asked the king softly so as not to startle the animal.

Alistair sighed. "I will warn you, most of what I know about horses and riding them has been learned since I became king. And I have it on good authority that my father did not excel at it either ..."

Alfstanna turned back to look at him and watched as he debated internally. Finally, she saw him signal the stable master who had brought Pic out to her. "Neely, I'll ride Griffon today."

The woman nodded, turning to retrieve the requested mount for him.

"Griffon?" Alfstanna asked as she continued to examine Piceron.

Alistair grinned. "I couldn't resist," he explained. At her look of confusion, he simply said, "You will see why shortly." Walking over to her side, he asked, "You really like him?"

Alfstanna sensed the king's nervousness and understood its source. Her brother had been raised by the Chantry from a young age to be a Templar as well, and she knew the training that had gone along with it. Plus, Lysette had explained Alistair's ... situation as well. "I do, ... Alistair." Her green eyes caught his amber gaze. Smiling, she reached out to touch his hand ... felt him jump at first, but then take it gently within his much larger one. _Small steps_ , she thought. "Thank you."

The stable master returned then, announcing, "Griffon, sire." Alistair turned and stepped over to his mount, allowing Alfstanna to observe the stallion. Her eyes widened, admiring the beautiful grey beast. "Oh, Alistair!" she breathed, her eyes lighting up with delight.

Alistair laughed. "He's really a big softie," the king said as he led the animal over to her. And, for some odd reason, he was not surprised when she handed him the reins to Piceron so that she could go through a similar examination of Griffon.

Alfstanna soon reclaimed the reins to Piceron, a slight blush pinking her cheeks as she looked at the king. "I am sorry," she told him.

"No," he assured her with a smile, "please. I only wish I knew half as much as you apparently do, ... not that it would keep me from falling off them upon occasion ..." Her chuckle echoed his as they led the animal out of the building.

* * *

"Would you like a leg-up?"

Alfstanna blinked, startled, before she turned to glance at the king. "For a man who says he's had limited experience around horses, you sure have the vocabulary down well," she commented.

Alistair's grin returned as he looped Griffon's reins around the nearby fence to keep him from running off. Returning to Alfstanna's side on the left of the horse, he took his position and replied, "Well, I have stable master Neely to thank for that. She's pretty much taught me most of what I know, and she is the one who suggested that you might like the Antivan Paso ..." Alistair's voice trailed off as Alfstanna placed her left hand upon his shoulder, her left foot into his hands, and while holding Pic's reins and mane in her right hand, the moment the king gave her a boost, she kicked her right leg out over the saddle. Once astride the animal, their contact now separated, Alistair had to wonder at the slight rush that he'd felt flowing through him as she had used him for support. Smiling just a bit, he decided he'd rather enjoyed it.

Alfstanna settled her weight into her saddle, sliding her feet into the stirrups while speaking softly to Piceron. Given the nature of the breeding, Alfstanna knew Antivan Pasos to be a bit on the antsy side, particularly when faced with someone new. After a moment, she murmured, "Alistair, would you hold his reins for me, just there beneath the bit, so that I can adjust my stirrup?"

Alistair moved where she requested slowly as the stable master had taught him to be around the horses, before taking hold of the animal. As he murmured quietly to the beast, he watched as Alfstanna leaned forward and to her right a bit, pulling up the stirrup leather until the buckle was in her grasp. She adjusted it one notch, lowered it, and then gave the stirrup leather a firm yank to reseat the buckle beneath the saddle skirt. She then sat back, lifted her head and smiled at him while pulling up the slack in the reins. "Thank you," she told him.

Alistair returned the smile, releasing the animal gently and turning to move towards his own steed. "Not at all," he told her as he loosed Griffon's reins from the fence and stepped up onto the nearby mounting block. Within moments, he too was mounted and settled, leading Griffon up beside Piceron. Before he could say a word, he saw Alfstanna glance behind him as they could hear the increased clop-clopping sound of approaching hoofbeats. He knew full well she was eyeing the approaching mounted guards. "Ah yes," he murmured, watching her turn back towards him, "my babysitters."

Alfstanna could not refrain from an unlady-like snort. As she watched his reaction to this, she saw a glimmer of amusement light up behind his gaze. "Well," she told him softly, almost conspiratorially, "we could make a run for it ..."

"Though I find that thought very intriguing, my lady," he replied, lifting his voice just slightly so that his guards would not think he was trying anything ... sneaky (after all, they had been less than pleased to find he had snuck out of the palace recently to meet Teagan and Fergus at  _The Gnawed Noble_  for a drink), "I suspect that would be above my skill level at the moment. Perhaps after I've had further ... instruction?"

A smile played at Alfstanna's lips as she began leading Piceron off at a walk, Alistair following beside her. "As you wish, your Majesty," she replied formally. "Perhaps we can work on your ... technique during today's ride ..."


	4. Chapter 4

Several weeks later, Alistair was feeling much more secure in his horsemanship skills, and he had to wonder (if only silently and to himself) if it was more due to the increasing number of rides with Alfstanna or his own relaxation of nervousness about the activity to the point that the skills he had been taught were finally kicking in. Whatever the case, he was pleased with the results.

After that first ride with Alfstanna, Alistair found that he was actually beginning to look forward to the time they spent together. They had exited Denerim, accompanied by their four guards, and headed south of the city to ride in the open country, along a small river, and simply get to know each other. They had ridden for a while before taking a short time to walk the animals and give them a rest. It was during this time that Alistair was able to engage Alfstanna in further discussion about horses, her home, and any other topic that had come up. By the time they mounted again, the initial nervousness that had plagued the king had disappeared entirely.

They managed to schedule time to ride together at least twice a week. On this morning, Alistair found himself glancing at the calendar on his desk and smiling ... Today would be one of those days...

At the sound of the door to his office opening, Alistair turned to find Eamon entering the room. "Good morning, your Majesty," the older man was saying as he crossed the room.

Alistair nodded, setting aside some documents he had been reading. "Good morning, Eamon."

The former Arl of Redcliffe took a seat in front of the king's desk, not so much because of any intention of staying, but in reply to an earlier request by Alistair who had noted how exhausted and drained his foster father had been as of late. Alistair knew it was due to many things: the death of Isolde and the attempt she had made upon Teagan and Lysette; Connor being at the Circle now and not nearby to assist his father and the simple fact that Alistair himself had not been present for large portions of the early part of his reign. Though it was partially out of a sense of guilt that Alistair had made the request, the king honestly did care about the man.

The chancellor sat forward and handed several pages to Alistair. "What is this?" the king asked as he took them in hand and began skimming them.

"That, my dear boy, is your monthly 'cheese' update," the man replied with a slight smirk.

"My monthly cheese ...?" Alistair frowned for just a moment, until he saw the sparkle of amusement in his elder's eye. "Oh!" Then the king chuckled. It was to his credit that his usual blush did not appear. "You still won't let me live that down, will you Eamon?"

Eamon allowed his chuckle release this time. "Alistair, I must admit that when you first told me about the idea, I thought you had lost your mind. However," he continued, giving the king a warm smile, "after I thought about it more, and the first reports began coming in ..." He sighed heavily. "Let us just say that you taught this old man a new trick or two."

Alistair blinked for a moment, truly startled by Eamon's praise, but the king's cheeky nature soon returned. "Does that mean you now approve of my 'unholy love of cheeses?'" he quipped with his trademark grin.

Eamon chuckled again, but allowed a soft groan to escape. "I knew that would come back to haunt me one day," he replied.

Alistair simply smiled and let it go. Though he was the king, he did have a lot of respect for Eamon. The fact that the man would allow Alistair to tease him as he had was a definite sign of the improvement of their relationship over the years. Setting the pages aside, Alistair told him, "I will go over these in more detail later. Is there anything else pressing?"

Eamon shook his head. "Not at the moment. Remember we have the delegation from Nevarra arriving in two months time for trade talks and such, but most of the discussion on that can wait until the weeks right before they arrive."

Alistair nodded. They spent a further few moments in discussion before Eamon sat back in his chair and folded his hands together in front of him. "May I ask you a question, Alistair?"

The king glanced up at his former guardian. "Of course, Eamon. What's on your mind?"

Eamon pressed his lips together, leaning to rest his chin upon his fingertips as he supported his elbows with the arms of the chair. "I was ... curious as to how you felt your relationship with Bann Alfstanna was ... progressing."

Alistair could not say that he wasn't startled by the question, and his reaction - the dropping of the quill he had been toying while they were speaking. Unable to keep himself from reacting, he could feel a blush heating his cheeks and he dropped his eyes to stare at his hands. "I, ... well ... you see ..."

Eamon smiled at the younger man, not unkindly, as he sat forward leaning towards him. "That well?" he asked. He watched the king darken a bit more before sighing and saying, "I found it to be an interesting pairing when I heard of it, but I cannot say that I don't agree with it. You both seem well suited to each other, and I believe she would make an excellent queen. Alfstanna is quite capable and she is very well liked among the nobility."

Alistair finally managed to bring himself back under control, lifting his head to regard his mentor. Eamon seemed to be sincere, and Alistair knew that his primary concern was for the royal line to be established. If the match happened to be one that was beyond a simple political arrangement, all the better. With a soft sigh, he responded, "I will simply say at this point that ... I am encouraged."

Rising to his feet, Eamon nodded. "That is good." When he saw the surprise on Alistair's features, he asked, "Did you think that I would wish you to not be happy?" Eamon's previous smile seemed to diminish. "Alistair, despite what you may think, I only want what is best for you and for the country. If you can find your own personal happiness along the way, even better."

Alistair rose and moved around the desk to follow Eamon out of the study. As they stood before the doorway, Alistair's guards straightening in salute and falling into position behind him as they walked, the king murmured, "I think she and I can find happiness together. At least, that is my hope."

The makings of a smile began with a slight curl of Eamon's lip. "I hope so, your Majesty," he replied. "I really do hope so. Now then, when do you see her again?"

Alistair chuckled. "Actually, I will be riding with her this afternoon." He saw Eamon's look of incredulity at that. "She is a marvelous rider," he explained, "and her knowledge of horses is truly extraordinary as well. Between her and the stable master, I think I may actually learn how to keep myself from falling off of a horse!"

Eamon shook his head as they neared his office. With one last chuckle, he replied, "I think that your father would have been proud of you for that. As I recall, he had a very difficult time with horses himself ..."

* * *

The rain that had been threatening all day finally gave way after Alistair and Alfstanna returned to the stables from their afternoon ride. As they brought the animals indoors, Alistair handed Griffon's reins to Neely before turning to follow Alfstanna to Piceron's stall. When she entered the area, he remained at the gate, leaning upon it while watching her work. From the moment he had presented her with the horse, Alfstanna had insisted on being the one to take care of him. At the time she had insisted it was because she and the animal needed to become familiar with each other.

Alistair stood at the gate to the stall watching them together as Alfstanna removed his saddle and bridle in order to groom him. When she stepped near Alistair's position to lay the gear onto the gate itself, Alistair took it from her, lifting it over and asking, "Stable master?"

Alfstanna nodded, a bit startled at his assistance. "Yes, please," she told him. When he stepped away from the gate, she peered around the door frame, watching him walk away with the equipment.  _He is so different from others_ , she noted silently. With a soft chuckle at her observation (for he  _was_  different - it was one of the first things that the nobles had all started commenting on when Eamon had suggested Alistair as king) she turned back to Piceron. She moved to check and clean out his hooves first before shifting positions so she could rub and brush him down for the day.

When Alistair returned to his position outside Piceron's stall after a brief chat with Neely and a question or two about Griffon's care (he was beginning to see things in a new light given what he had been observing with Alfstanna and her care of Piceron), he found his intended on the animal's left side, using some sort of a brush against him. A moment later he realized that he must have made some sort of sound because Alfstanna lifted her head to glance over at him, a question in her eyes. "Oh," he replied quietly so as not to startle the creature, "I was just thinking that for such a rough type of brush, he certainly seems to be enjoying the attention."

Alfstanna smiled, her soft chuckle drifting across the room to him as she moved her attentions back to her steed. "Pic is rapidly becoming an attention hog, I think," she told him. To prove her point, Piceron turned his head to reach around and nudge Alfstanna's shoulder insistently. Her laughter bubbled over at the action, and she paused her brushing to place an arm around the animal's neck and hug him before speaking softly to him.

Alistair quietly took that opportunity to step inside the stall, closing the gate firmly behind him. He paused for a brief moment when he saw Givens, his lead guard, stepping forward, but Alistair simply shook his head and gestured the man away. Moving slowly and quietly, for Alistair had discovered that this seemed to keep the beast calm, he joined Alfstanna as she moved to the animal's right side to repeat the brushing. "Definitely an attention hog," he murmured as he came to a stop near the wall.

Alfstanna looked over at him and smiled.  _This is new_ , she observed silently.  _He's never entered the stall with me before. I wonder if he is becoming used to being around horses?_  Then with a cheeky grin, and a knowing look, she asked, "Jealous, your Majesty?"

Alistair's own grin matched hers. "I don't suppose he would allow me to get away with that particular emotion, would he?" he asked as he eyed the animal warily. "So I guess I will have to answer 'no' for the moment ... at least until we are outside of the stables and I am beyond reach of his hooves!"

Alfstanna smiled, continuing to hold the king's amber gaze. If asked, she discovered suddenly that she would have to admit that, despite the arranged nature to their relationship, she was indeed beginning to fall for the man. He was easy to be around, amusing, a gentleman in all ways ... Alfstanna knew him to be a fearsome warrior, though they had never fought side by side. She could recall too clearly when Lysette had allowed the man the chance to face off against Loghain at the Landsmeet.  _I do not think I was the only one to see the change that came over him then; the mantle of command, the power and authority that seemed to infuse him, lifting him to the position that he was clearly meant to have._

Her thoughts were distracted enough, her attentions towards Piceron just hesitant enough that she was completely unprepared for what happened next ...

Alistair found that he was caught up in her emerald eyes, fascinated at the color, the play of emotions crossing her face as she looked up at him. And then, from one moment to the next, he caught a flash of dark red behind her just before Piceron turned, snorting and snuffling, and nudged his mistress in her back, sending her flying against the king. Alistair reacted instantly, his arms moving out to catch her before she could fall, pulling her against him and out of Piceron's reach.

Alfstanna's eyes widened in reaction just a moment before she began laughing, her slender frame shaking with amusement. She felt Alistair pull her close and out of the way of Piceron's antics, and she chose to take that moment of closeness to revel in his touch, his large hands holding her safely.  _Not that I cannot take care of myself,_  she clarified if only to herself.  _But it is nice to rely on someone else for a change ..._

Alistair laughed softly with her when it became clear that she was all right. "Well," he murmured, "that was different."

Alfstanna could not stop a soft snort from escaping. "I do believe he was well named," she returned. "Mischievous indeed!"

Alistair nodded in agreement. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice dropping just slightly as his arms remained at her waist. "I am fine."

"Hmm." Alistair tilted his head to the left just a bit as he looked at her, his eyes evaluating her. "You know, " he told her, "I don't think I ever realized before just how ... diminutive you are."

Alfstanna's grin returned. "Diminutive? Hmm, not quite the word I was expecting," she teased him.

Alistair couldn't hold back a blush as he realized what he had just said. "I am ... sorry," he told her. "The women I've been around for the past few years I am used to at least reaching my shoulders." He winced slightly as his explanation was probably just as bad as the comment that had started all of this ...

Alfstanna felt a warmth begin to flow through her at his words. She knew she was short, she always had been. Even Irminric had teased her about it. She could see that Alistair was beginning to fall back upon his self-deprecating ways in order to cover his embarrassment, and she searched for something to say to keep him from doing so. "You know," she said softly, watching his eyes return to her face, "you have had some mighty big boots to fill ... perhaps you've grown some in order to do so?"

Alistair watched as she smiled, her sincerity and concern for him clear. "There is that too, I suppose ..."

Stepping forward so that both she and Alistair were on the same level, she looked first at where she reached, her head resting just below the edge of his shoulder. "You see? I'm not so short ... It's all in the location and presentation," she said softly, looking back up into his amber gaze.

Alistair suddenly felt a bit breathless as their gazes locked once more. "No," he agreed, "not that short at all ..."

Alfstanna saw him begin to lower his head towards her and felt a slight thrum of emotion rush through her as his lips neared hers for the first time. "Just right height, actually ...," he added in a whisper before lifting a hand to her face, caressing her cheek, and tilting her head to met his.

Alfstanna felt the warmth of his lips against hers and could not keep her eyes from closing, a soft moan of appreciation slipping out at his touch. She felt him slide his hand into her hair at the back of her head, gently pulling her closer, deepening their contact. Lifting her arms, she slid them around his neck, meeting at the base of his head. With his hair now grown out more, she discovered that she could entangle her fingers in his as he had done to hers, and she found that she was relishing the soft silken feeling of it as it brushed and slipped between her fingers.

Alistair, for all of his nervousness and anxiety at initiating the kiss, felt himself finally relaxing into the contact, enjoying the touch and play of their lips as they tangled together. He even felt a soft groan rumble through his chest as her fingers worked their way into his hair (thankfully he did not seem to be ticklish) ...

A loud cough from the doorway had the royal couple jumping back suddenly, both blushing slightly as they realized what had happened. Alistair held Alfstanna's gaze, pulling his hand down to her cheek and holding it there as he heard Neely's lilting voice call out, "Pardon the intrusion, sire ...?"

Still trying to bring himself back under control, Alistair's voice was a bit more gruff than he had intended when he bit out, "What is it?" Alfstanna's eyes had opened at the intrusion, and she was now smiling at him, her fingers trailing down along his jaw in a lightly teasing manner. He could also see a spark of mischief there, and not for the first time found himself wondering at the appropriateness of matching the woman with Piceron.

"A messenger has arrived from the palace, your Majesty," the stable master explained. "He is insisting that he must speak with you immediately."

Alfstanna lowered her hand to Alistair's arm, watching as he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and bit back another groan. "He will be there in just a moment, Neely," she called to the woman. "And, could you please have one of the grooms come and finish up with Piceron please? I believe we shall both be returning to the palace."

"Yes, of course, my lady."

Alistair's eyes opened then, his gaze falling down to Alfstanna's. With a sigh, he managed a small smile. "Thank you," he told her, lifting the back of her hand to his lips for a brief kiss.

Alfstanna smiled back. "I should get used to being ... your equal, yes?" she returned.

Alistair took a step backwards and turned to lead her out of the stall. As they exited, one of Neely's assistants slipped into the area moving quickly to take over where Alfstanna had left off in the grooming process. Alistair found Alfstanna's cloak hanging on a nail just outside of the stall and he lifted it, settling it upon her shoulders and fastening it before he replied in a quiet but sincere voice, "You shall be my equal in everything."

Alfstanna smiled at this. She watched him retrieve his own cloak, donning it with a bit of flair as they began walking towards the exit of the building. She saw Neely off to the left and she smiled at the woman, pleased to see her smiling back. Reaching up to take Alistair's arm, she squeezed it gently to get his attention. When he looked down at her, she tilted her head just slightly in the direction of the stable master. "Thank you, Neely," the king called over, his voice now more his usual, friendly manner. Alfstanna watched him wait for the woman to look at him before he nodded at her as well.

The couple stepped outside the stables then, both lifting their hoods against the rain. "Will you come back to the palace with me?" Alistair asked then.

"Of course, your Majesty," Alfstanna replied with a grin watching him squirm slightly at her use of his title. She felt him move her hand to his, squeezing it slightly as they approached the messenger. As the king and messenger spoke, Alfstanna listened but glanced around them. Alistair's guards had followed them out of the stables and her eyes caught onto Givens' who appeared to be surveying her. She lifted a brow in question, her manner suddenly becoming more like that which she used with her people back at home when they came to her for assistance or trouble. Both exchanged a long, hard look ... until she saw the man smile and nod just a bit, indicating his acceptance.

"Everything all right, my dear?"

Alistair's sudden question startled Alfstanna out of her silent conversation, and she turned to face him. "Absolutely," she assured him. "To the palace then?"

Alistair nodded, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. "Yes, to the palace." He glanced up. The distance to the palace was relatively short, and the rain had slackened off some. "Would you like me to call for a carriage?"

Alfstanna laughed and shook her head. "Absolutely not!" she returned as they began walking off. "I do not mind walking in the rain if you do not." Alistair's chuckle was warm and enveloping, she noticed, and she hoped that he would always feel free to do so around her.

"Shall I tell you stories of our adventures during the Blight?" he asked. "Of not only traveling but fighting darkspawn in the rain? Or, worse yet, the snow?" As they continued down the street towards the palace, he launched into one of the adventures that he had shared with his companions.


	5. Chapter 5

Alfstanna was standing before the mirror in her room, smoothing the material of her skirt and wishing she could don her preferred trousers and tunic for the evening's festivities. With a soft sigh of frustration, she turned first to her right and then to her left before making another minor adjustment.

"My lady," Clare said quietly as she stepped forward holding the Bann's favorite pair of leather boots, "are you  _sure_  you want to wear these ...?"

Alfstanna caught her maid's gaze in the mirror, smiling warmly.  _Ah, Clare,_ she thought,  _I wish I could get you to understand me sometimes ..._  "I am positive," she replied, turning to take the well worn footwear before seating herself on the edge of the bed to pull them on and buckle them into place. "If I have to attend this dinner at least I am going to be comfortable while standing around!"

Clare smiled at her liege-lord shaking her head in bemusement. She had been in the employ of the Bann almost from the time that Alfstanna had taken over the position. During those years, she felt she had come to know her quite well, and vice versa.  _But then,_  Clare thought,  _she knows almost all of her people very well; knows how to utilize them and their skills to the best advantage._

The first time that Clare had been able to assist Alfstanna by utilising some of her more ... unique skills, she had been both thrilled and extremely proud. Alfstanna had a way of knowing in whom she could place her trust, and those in whom she placed it were loyal to her unto death. Clare had known several who served the bann who had done so, including the man she was supposed to have married.

During the Blight, as Loghain and his troops fomented civil war across the land, they had taken to attacking troops of the various banns, usually on their own lands, all in an effort to force the banns to his side of the conflict. It had been during a trip from Denerim back to Stormgard, an unscheduled and unannounced trip in which the remainder and majority of the household had been waiting a further week before their departure for just this reason, that Bann Alfstanna and her men had been attacked. Of the nine men traveling to protect her, Alfstanna had lost six. Of the remaining three, one had been so badly injured that he had been forced to retire from her guards upon his return to Stormgard.

Clare had been devastated by the news, but she had developed a deep and abiding respect for Alfstanna as the woman had taken on the responsibility for informing the families of all the men who had been injured or killed herself. It was at that time, after their talk and while Alfstanna had been comforting her that Clare had first offered her skills for use. Though the bann had been startled at the offer, and particularly at the timing, she had agreed that if she found the necessity for their use she would let the girl know.

When Alfstanna rose from the bed, her boots now comfortably on her feet, she faced Clare and did a slow turn. "Well?" she teased. "Am I presentable?"

Clare grinned. "As my lady wishes," she replied with a slight bow in the woman's direction. She giggled and jumped away as Alfstanna playfully reached out to smack at her hand.

"You are in a sassy mood this evening!" Alfstanna observed with a smile.

Clare's grin widened. "As are you, my lady. One might think that your relationship with the king is perhaps ... good for you?" Clare watched Alfstanna closely and noticed the slight blush that crept up the woman's neck.  _Ahhh,_ she observed.  _The feelings between you apparently are mutual. That is good!_

"I think it might be good for us both," Alfstanna replied as she turned back towards the mirror and stepped close enough so that she could see her visage as she straightened her hair. During the Blight, she had kept it very short. In the two years since that time, she had allowed it to grow, and it now was reaching down to her chin, gently forming soft curls in the process. She tended to wear the dark reddish-brown tresses tucked behind her ears, more out of habit than any other reason, though this evening she let it fall naturally, curling and tickling about her chin.

Clare stepped up then and placed a long cloak at the bann's shoulders. "My lady," she murmured, her voice soft but betraying an edge of concern that had not been there earlier, "may I ask a question?"

Alfstanna glanced up until their eyes met in the mirror. She noted the concern in Clare's eyes as well as her voice. Turning, she replied, "Of course!"

"When you and the king marry," for this was a foregone conclusion, particularly since the couple was getting on so well together, "what will become of us?"

Alfstanna's breath caught as she realized the import of the woman's words. "I fully expect that the majority of you, if you should like, will come along with me to the palace," she told her. "I do not believe the king will have the staff available to meet my needs, and why should he have to when I have one readily available that I already trust beyond measure?" She saw the tension disappear from Clare's shoulders and understood that this was what she had been hoping to hear. "Those who do not come with me, or would prefer not to, shall return to Stormgard and serve my brother when he takes over as Bann, I expect."

Clare smiled, her moment of nervousness now vanished. "Thank you, my lady. I - As nothing had been yet said, I thought I would -"

Alfstanna reached out and took Clare's hands into hers, patting them gently. "I have come to rely on you too much, I fear," she told her sincerely. "It would not be fair to leave you so suddenly without employment, nor to any new staff to have to suffer my intolerance while breaking them into my particular needs, yes?"

Clare nodded slightly, lowering her hands to her side then. "Thank you, my lady, for your indulgence."

Alfstanna snorted softly. "Indulgence?" she queried incredulously. "I think the indulgence is on your end of things, is it not, for certainly no other noble receives such excellent service from their staff as I do with you."

* * *

The dinner had gone well, Alfstanna thought a few hours later as she moved among the nobles and their partners initiating conversations with some and being drawn into conversations by others. By the end of the evening, as the last of the guests were departing, Alfstanna was silently praising her decision in footwear.

She left the dining hall, prepared to search for Alistair who had exited the rooms before her, when she was approached by Eamon. Tilting her head just a bit, she smiled in welcome, but her eyes held the question. Eamon nodded and suggested, "I will lead you to him, if you like. He was called into an impromptu meeting."

Alfstanna replied, "Why thank you, Chancellor," as she looped her arm through his. She glanced behind her briefly and spotted Tynas, one of the guards she had been given for the evening, and waved him off as he began to step forward.

As they walked through the halls of the palace, they spoke of a variety of things, including her brother, until finally Eamon asked, "Are you aware of the ... change that has come over Alistair since you two began seeing each other?"

Alfstanna frowned. "I am not sure I know what you mean, Eamon."

The chancellor smiled and patted her hand in a reassuring manner where it lay on his arm. "Now, now, my dear," his voice rumbled, "it is all for the good, I assure you! Alistair has been making great strides since taking the throne. He is much more sure of himself, his decisions, even in his own political ... machinations, shall we say. But in the past couple of months, I have noticed that he has really come into his own, and I believe a large part of that is due to the confidence he has in his relationship with you."

Alfstanna smiled, but glanced away so he would not see the blush that rose upon her cheeks. "Why, thank you, Eamon," she finally managed.

"For what it is worth," he added softly as they neared Alistair's office, "I believe he is doing the same for you as well. Your father would have been very proud of you, Alfstanna," he added. "You have done remarkable things while serving as Bann of Waking Sea. I have no doubt you shall do so as Queen of Ferelden as well."

Alfstanna found herself at a loss for words. She had known that Eamon and her father had been close friends before her father's sudden passing, but this was the first time Eamon had ever complimented her in such a manner. Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek and whispered, "Thank you, Eamon. That means a lot to me."

Eamon chuckled, patting her hand once more. "Now go on in, my dear. He is waiting for you, I am sure."

Alfstanna turned to open the door, nodding as she did so to Givens who was standing nearby. She entered the room almost silently and found her intended standing on the far side near the hearth, a document in hand and a slight frown crossing his rugged features. Slightly amused that her roguish skills were still intact (she realized suddenly that the increased amount of time she and Alistair had been spending together had drastically reduced her training time ... something would need to be done about that), she entered the room and wondered how long it would take before he would notice her presence.

Though still staring at the document, Alistair had finished reading the message in his hand and was still contemplating its full meaning when he murmured, "You can come out of the shadows and join me, Tanna." He heard a soft gasp and wondered if it was due to the shortened version of her name he had used. Glancing up, he smiled, finding her crossing the room to his side.

"How did you know?" she asked.

Alistair chuckled, reaching out for her hand and pulling her close to his side. He leaned down to give her a quick but thoroughly delightful kiss before murmuring, "We had three rogues in our group during the Blight, remember? Though I could never pull off any of the same moves myself, I learned how to recognize them." Then he added in a conspiratorial tone and a wink, "But, don't tell  _them_  that!"

Alfstanna smiled. "I will have to remember that then," she told him, "should I decide to sneak up on you in future ... for some reason or another."

Alistair, whose gaze had shifted back to the document, now trailed back to her again, one brow lifting in slight amusement (but only to cover his embarrassment at the ideas her comment subtly suggested). "Should I be worried?" he asked.

Alfstanna's smile evolved into a sultry pout. "Oh, no," she replied, her voice dropping to a soft purr, her fingers dancing lightly along his arm just to see his reaction, "not in the least."

Alistair narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling his nerves jumping and skittering just beneath his skin. Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, he could not keep the nervousness from his voice as he asked, "Erm, ... do you, by any chance, know an Antivan Crow named Zevran Arainai ...?"

Alfstanna allowed her amusement release at that. "Your friend from the Blight, you mean? Hmmm, I may have spoken to him ... once ... or twice before he departed ..." She heard the king groan and she giggled. Lifting a hand to his arm, she squeezed gently and murmured, "Relax. I am just teasing you, you know."

Alistair sighed, knowing that his cheeks must be flaming red now, though he hoped the light of the fire would be dim enough to help hide it. "Tanna, listen - I'm -"

Alfstanna's mood shifted instantly to one that was less aggressive and provocative. She lifted her fingers to his lips to silence his words. "Don't say it," she whispered, leaning closer. "I know of your background, Alistair, ... and it doesn't matter. Just relax." Then with an impish grin, she added, "You know, you could always tease me back."

Alistair heard her words, digested them, and lowered his head to hers for another kiss, one that began completely undemanding, but once initiated evolved until both parties stepped back in fear that they would melt from its heat. When he lifted his head again to rest his forehead against hers, he asked in a husky voice, "Like that?"

Alfstanna found it to be a bit of a struggle to catch her breath after that one. "Yes," she finally manged, her voice raspy, "like that."

With a smile, Alistair straightened and led her to the nearby settle where they could sit together. "I am sorry I was dragged away from dinner like that," he told her quietly as they made themselves comfortable.

Alfstanna shook her head. "I suppose I should get used to such things," she said in response. She was seated beside him, his arm resting lightly around her shoulders.

"I will try to keep it to a minimum," he promised, "though you know how it is, I am sure, from your years as Bann."

Alfstanna chuckled and nodded. She also found herself leaning into his loose embrace a bit more as they sat and chatted. They were still in the process of getting to know one another, but she was enjoying it and suspected that, as time passed, he was too.

After a while, Alistair asked, "Are you going to ask me about this?" He waved the document he still held in his left hand.

Turning to look up at him, she replied sincerely, "I decided if you wanted me to know of it, you would tell me. I realize there will be things you cannot discuss with me, and I certainly do not want to infringe upon your privacy."

Alistair blinked once, startled by her response, but then chuckled as he realized that she would indeed understand. Hugging her lightly with the arm around her, he handed her the paper. "I have been receiving messages from a variety of sources," he explained softly. "As you are no doubt aware, there are some concerns regarding Orlais in the west. I've had information from some sources suggesting that the Empress is wanting to make a move on Ferelden because she thinks I am a weak king, one who will be easy to replace."

Alfstanna frowned. "What sources are these?" she queried. She had spent her entire life growing up along the western edge of Ferelden and had never once seen or heard of anything like this since the fall of Empress Celene's father.

"Sources that I find are highly inaccurate and untrustworthy," Alistair assured her, "which should tell you just how much faith I put into that information. However, from my experiences during and since the Blight, and from discussions with certain ... well, I suppose you could call them advisers ... well, I'm learning rather quickly not to take too many chances, nor to look gift-horses in the mouth." He could see that she was having difficulty understanding his point. "What I am trying to say, and doing a rather poor job of it I am afraid, is that despite the fact that I am nearly one hundred percent sure that the Empress has no ... sinister intentions, I have certain people placed in such a way that they can report to me periodically what information they come across so that should the situation change suddenly, abruptly, we will be aware of it and ready to make a stand."

Alfstanna blinked several times, pulling away from him for a moment. Her gaze turned, locked onto him and surveyed the man as if she had never seen him before.

Reluctantly, Alistair lowered his arm as she sat back, drawing his lower lip between his teeth in an unknowing gesture of nervousness.  _Uh oh, this can't be good ..._  The continued silence began putting the king on edge, and Alistair started to get antsy.  _Have I just ruined things?_  he wondered.

Alfstanna blinked again and then smiled up at him, reaching out to place a hand over his where it lay on the settle between them. Squeezing his hand lightly, she told him softly, "I must admit, I have underestimated you."

Alistair swallowed hard and suddenly had the urge to run his finger beneath his collar in an effort to loosen the thing against his throat. "Um, would that be a good underestimated, or a bad one?" he queried hesitantly.

Her smile widening, Alfstanna squeezed his hand again. "That would be a good underestimated," she replied, scooting beside him once more. "You are developing a very mercenary nature; you aren't so paranoid about the Orlesians as Loghain was, but you do realize that there is the potential threat from that direction and you have put into place an intelligence network to gather the information you require." She looked up at him, watched as his face relaxed and softened at her words. "I do not think any of the nobles realize just what they have in you as king, Alistair. Your shrewdness combined with your genuine concern about your people and your country is just what they need."

Alistair sighed in relief but could not prevent the blush that crept up at her praise. "Well, I don't know about all the rest of that, but if you approve, who am I to complain?"

Alfstanna watched his lopsided grin return and felt a slight tug at her heart.  _He is so innocent in so many ways,_  she realized.  _And yet, it only makes it easier to fall in love with him. I only hope he finds me as worthy._

With Alfstanna returned to his side, Alistair slid his arm around her again and passed her the letter which she took in hand this time. He began explaining about what had happened months before at Redcliffe and the "merchants" he had arranged to collect on the cheese trade. He heard her giggle uncontrollably for a few moments as he described Fergus' reaction to the terms and gave her a squeeze, his arm dropping to her waist to do so (This apparently only increased her giggle fit and he reluctantly ceased). Then he began explaining about Brother Genitivi's purpose. "You have heard of Brother Genitivi, haven't you?"

Alfstanna nodded. "Oh yes, I have. Irmnric gave me a copy of the good brother's book,  _In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar_  several years ago for my birthday. It was quite interesting," she added.

Alistair nodded. "I've read that one as well," he added. At her look, he lifted a brow. "Well, at least the Chantry had a good library when I was there! At any rate," he continued, "as I am sure you have heard, we met the man during our travels. Since the end of the Blight, he has continued his research and his work at a small place called Haven, out near Rainesfere. Haven is rapidly becoming a meeting place for academicians and others wanting to do research into the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Though that is his main purpose out there," the king added quietly, "he is also keeping tabs on the comings and goings of visitors, of things he overhears and the like."

"You turned the brother into a spy?" she teased.

Alistair chuckled. "Actually, the man agreed wholeheartedly when I offered him the position of lead researcher for the expedition. That and he is a natural magnet for all sorts of travelers, many of whom have slivers of information that, when put together, for a much larger picture."

They talked a bit further about Alistair's more or less private intelligence network, with each subsequent revelation only increasing Alfstanna's admiration for the man, when finally asked, "It seems to me that you have kept this pretty close to your chest until now. Might I ask why you are telling me about it?"

"Well," he began, his arm tightening just slightly around her waist, "I was thinking that perhaps two heads might be better than just the one when analyzing these reports. I mean, Eamon knows about the ones that come from my cheese merchants, though he does not read them, but he is not aware of Genitivi's. And, though you seem to think I have quite the intellectual grasp of all of this, I will openly admit that having a second pair of eyes would take tremendous pressure off of me. That and," he added as he leaned over to kiss her cheek lightly, "who else would I trust with this but my future wife?"

When she did not respond to his question, his brows drew close together in concern and he added, "Unless, that is, you do not wish to be a part of this? I would understand, you know. I have numerous 'irons in the fire,' so to speak, and some of them have the potential to make me and mine a target."

Alfstanna's eyes snapped to his. "I am honored that you would trust me with this, Alistair," she told him sincerely. "Please do not think that I am hesitating ... I am simply trying to take it all in."

"I don't want to endanger you," he told her honestly, "and that could happen whether you help me with this particular project or not. Simply by becoming my queen, you place yourself at risk."

She thought on his words a moment before asking softly, "Are you not wanting us to marry then? Have you changed your mind?"

Releasing his hold on her, Alistair rose to his feet and crossed over towards the hearth, giving himself distance from both her and the situation, or so he hoped. He faced the fire, staring into the orange and yellow flames, listening to the snapping and popping sounds that it made as the wood burned. After long moments of silence spent thus, he placed his arms straight out before him, leaning against the mantlepiece. As he spoke, his voice deepened with concern and thickened with emotion. "Tanna, I am torn. Eamon insists that I get married in order to carry on the Theirin line ... I know that, I accept it, I know it has to happen ... Maker's blood, I  _want_  it to happen. But the better I become at this being king thing, the more I find myself wondering how or even why I should willingly bring someone else into it, someone who may put their life at risk simply to assist me in doing my duty!"

Alfstanna rose to her feet, moving slowly across the room to his side as she would with a skittish horse.  _You are too good and kind of a person for this job,_  she thought.  _And that in itself is what makes you a good king ... a great king. We ask so much of you ... so much that the everyday people of Ferelden simply do not understand._  When she stood beside him, she reached out, placing a hand on his right forearm. He moved very quickly then, for someone trained as a warrior and not a rogue; spinning around, turning her and pulling her to him so that he could capture her lips in a kiss that was as fierce as it was desperate. She did not expect it, nor had she anticipated the overwhelming wave of desire that coursed through her as a result of it.

Alistair caught himself a moment later, lifting his head and simply wrapping his arms around her as she lowered her head to his chest. "Tanna -"

"Don't!" she said sharply, her eyes lifting to focus on his. "I will tell you this once and only once, Alistair, and then you will make your decision. Unlike you, I was raised as a noble, to do my duty, to serve my people, my king, my country. I had to accept the risk that goes along with that at an early age. It is different than being a simple soldier, or I suppose templar in your case, where you have to accept the fact that you could die at any time in any battle. When I was eighteen, I already knew - had known from the time that Irminric was sent to the Chantry - that I would become bann, and I accepted all that the position entailed. My life has been at risk on several occasions, yet I have survived." She lifted a hand to his face, cradling his cheek and feeling herself pulled into his amber gaze. "I know what I risk each and every day that I wake up and get out of bed, but that cannot and will not stop me from doing my duty. If you wish to go forward with this and have me become your queen, I will do so willingly, knowingly, and," she made sure he was looking at her, "lovingly. I will be there, beside you, as your right hand whenever you need me, however you need me, and whatever role you define for me."

Alistair lifted his hand to cover hers, pulling it away from his face and to his lips briefly. His other arm, already banded around her and holding her close, tightened. "It is selfish of me, I know -"

She shook her head sharply. "No," she insisted. "It is not selfish of you. You were not raised as a noble, you were not taught how to fulfill your duty other than as a soldier of the Chantry. For those of us who were raised to fill these positions of leadership, the attitude has been ingrained in us to the point that we accept it without questions. That does not make us any better than you," she added when she saw his face begin to fall at her words, "it just gives us an unspoken ... advantage? Your lack of experience with this though it causes you distress, also reminds us of what we take for granted."

The king shuddered uncontrollably, feeling the trembling extend from his head to his feet. "It  _is_  selfish of me," he insisted, "that I want you with me so badly. You know my background, and I am sure Lys has told you more about my upbringing than is commonly known," he saw her nod. "Though I never desired to be king, I have always wanted a wife, a family.  _That_  is what is selfish: that I knowingly ask you to risk your life to fulfill a silly dream ..."

Alfstanna allowed the depths of emotions and feelings she had been keeping in check since he began to court her show. She heard his gasp and squeezed his hand in return. "I will give you more time to sort this out in your head, but I want you to know that I am most willing to take that chance if you are." Taking a step back from him, she straightened her skirt and told him, "I should leave you now and allow you the time to think. Thank you for a delightful evening, your Majesty."

Alistair could only nod in response, dumbfounded by what she had said with both words and body language. As she suggested, he began thinking on all that having her in his life would entail, up to and including the possibility of children. He crossed the room and filed away the message he had shown her earlier.  _To have what Lys and Teagan have, or Fergus and Leliana ... that cannot be wrong, can it? Even for a king?_  With a heavy sigh, he turned to stare out the nearby window.  _Perhaps I should seek additional advice ...?_  Before he left the room, he scribbled out a note to his secretary and left it where the man could find it in the morning.


	6. Chapter 6

After their discussion, Alistair did take several days to seriously consider his relationship with Alfstanna and his recent concerns for her safety and security. During the days he found distraction in the meetings and royal function that filled his schedule and he was expected to attend. In the evenings, however, he found himself alone with far too much time on his hands and far too little to occupy his worried thoughts. After three days of this, he finally decided he'd had enough.

The people he knew and trusted most, those he could count on for support; advice and honest friendship; the ones he considered to be his "family" whether blood related or not had already left the city for their homes in distant places. Alistair checked his calendar and realized that they would all probably be gathering at Highever now, anxiously awaiting the birth of Fergus and Leliana's first child.  _Would it be an intrusion?_  he wondered.  _I can keep it to a small group, perhaps even visit and stay elsewhere and make a brief stop so I keep from interrupting the household, but is the timing right?_

When Eamon arrived for their daily chat, Alistair posed the question to him. Surprisingly, Eamon agreed that it would be a good idea. Not realizing that the young king was having second thoughts about marriage, Eamon suggested, "Why not take Bann Alfstanna with you? Visit Waking Sea, visit some of the other Bannorns along the way? Make yourself available to the people, Alistair."

The king nodded, but his thoughts drifted. After Eamon's departure, he turned back to the various documents and reports he'd been sorting through before the chancellor's arrival, but he found it difficult to refocus his attention. He roamed across the room to look out the windows at the city of Denerim spread out before him.  _Maybe I should ask her,_  he thought.  _Eamon is right ... I should get out to see the people, visit the Banns ... maybe seeing her in that light would make it easier for me to make a decision ..._

 

* * *

 

Alfstanna and Clare were in the Bann's study attempting to organize the transportation of part of the household back to Stormgard when their concentration was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Enter!" Alfstanna called as she paced near the window.

Lady Violette entered the room and first glanced over at Clare. The maid's look was enough to set the secretary's brows in a frown, and it took Violette a moment to recover. "A message has arrived for you from the palace, my lady," she announced. She had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing as her lady's pacing immediately ceased, and she strode across the room in just a few steps to grab the missive before returning over by the windows so she could have the light to read it.

Moving silently but quickly, Violette crossed to Clare's side. "Is she really planning to go back to Stormgard, or is she trying to force his hand?"

Clare snorted softly. "I am not quite sure she knows what she is doing!" she whispered. "What is in the message?"

Violette gave her most innocent look. "How should I know?" she asked. "It was sealed."

Clare giggled. "When has that ever stopped you?"

Violette blushed lightly and replied, "He wants her to go on a tour of the Bann with him. He's wanting to visit the teyrn and his family at Highever and thought this might be a good time to see Waking Sea as well."

Clare's brow lifted. "Really? So maybe she misunderstood him ...?"

Violette shook her head sadly. "No, I do not believe she did, but this does give them hope."

Clare frowned. "What is he so afraid of? She takes her chances every day that she is Bann, yet she survives!"

Violette saw her mistress turning towards them then and quickly responded, "He is afraid of having all that he loves torn away from him." She heard Clare's gasp and knew that her friend understood. Both women had heard the rumors of the king's personal history: his mother dying at his birth, Arl Eamon raising him until age ten then forcing the king to a Chantry monastery because the new Arlessa did not want the boy around ... Stepping forward then, she said, "Yes, my lady?"

Alfstanna gave the two women a long look. "We will be leaving next week for Waking Sea and the king will be accompanying us. V, please coordinate the organization with the palace staff. I suspect things will become a bit more ... complicated with our addition to the entourage."

With a nod of her head, Violette replied, "Of course, my lady. Do you wish to send a reply?"

As the woman lifted her head, Alfstanna's gaze caught hers and both women smiled. The Bann knew of Violette's habits, of her skills at getting around seals. "I will write one in a moment. Clare," she added, turning towards the maid, "at this point I would like to keep most of the staff here. Those who are at Stormgard will be enough, I think. Let us meet again this afternoon and sort out who will be traveling with us." She lifted the missive and waved it slightly. "The king would like to keep the group as small and as possible since we will be traveling to Highever as well."

"Yes, my lady," Clare replied as she gathered her things. As she turned to leave the room, she saw Alfstanna seating herself to write a return message. She shared one last smile with Violette before exiting.

* * *

The morning of their departure arrived faster than Alistair had anticipated. They gathered early, congregating at the palace before their relatively small caravan set off along the North Road, part of the old Imperial Highway that Alistair and his companions had used during the Blight as well, and linked the capital city with points west.

Alistair decided to ride Griffon on this trip both in an attempt to improve his horsemanship as well as to give him time to be with Alfstanna who, as he had suspected, chose to ride Piceron. Though they had not spoken in length since that night, Alistair hoped that Alfstanna's willingness to travel with the royal entourage as well as welcome them to Waking Sea was proof of her continued interest.

Alfstanna was surprised by the uncertainty that plagued her as their party mounted their horses and carriages and started the long trail out of the city. Though it was early, the sun barely beginning its ascent, there were plenty of people out and about, particularly in the Market District through which they traveled. At first, the Bann was a bit bemused by the path they were taking, uncertain as to why the king would prefer to take the longer route out of the city, but she quickly realized that most of the people they were passing were ones who never usually had the chance to see the king up close and personal either because they were working during his usual visits or because the timing of their occupations were such that they would miss such processions. She watched them now, smiling, waving, and occasionally cheering as the caravan progressed (for the royal guards would not allow anyone very close), and she could see in their eyes the appreciation that these people had for their king.

It was only once they were on the Imperial Highway and headed west that Alfstanna was able to get to a position where she and Alistair could talk. Both Clare and Violette had insisted upon riding in a carriage which had confounded Alfstanna at first as both were avid riders like herself. However, she began to suspect that they had anticipated that the king would want to speak with her, and if he did that they would prefer privacy (Alfstanna snorted softly at this thought.  _Privacy? While surrounded by royal guards?_ ). As Alistair brought Griffon beside her, she nodded politely at him and murmured in greeting, "Your Majesty."

Alistair nodded back at her, feeling a bit more overwhelmed with anxiety and nervousness than he had thought he would. Since their discussion in his study, they had barely seen or spoken to each other. That separation, fanned by his concerns and indecision had brought him back to a much lower level of comfort in regards to their relationship. He now felt a bit unsure as to how to even greet her.

Alfstanna spared him a glance and saw the emotions, concerns and even insecurities that were plaguing him. Instinctively, she felt her body relax, a soft sigh of compassion and understanding washing over her. Despite what may have come between them, she knew he was truly concerned for her safety and, she supposed, she could not fault him for that. With this in mind, she asked, "Have you fared well since our last visit?"

Alistair blinked for a moment, startled at the sudden change in mood. "Yes ..., erm, thank you," he managed. For the briefest of moments he thought about pawning it off on a busy schedule, the hazards of the job, but he knew that if he did that he would permanently break whatever trust they had begun to build. "And you?" he returned solicitously. "I can see that Piceron is his usual ... spunky self." This last was said as the animal in question bobbed his head suddenly, fighting Alfstanna for control.

Alfstanna chuckled, tightening her hands slightly on the reins, talking softly to her steed. It was a short-lived battle, one that both knew the winner ahead of time. She managed to get him back under control and bring him back beside Alistair soon thereafter. "He certainly has his moments," she agreed belatedly, "though I would not trade him for anything in all of Thedas."

Alistair felt some of his anxiety melting away at her words.  _Perhaps I can find a way through this muddle and salvage a relationship with her after all,_  he thought to himself.

* * *

The journey from Denerim to Highever took them the better part of eight days, with stops along the way in several villages and banns. At each stop there were speeches, festivities and a general atmosphere of excitement that the King of Ferelden had decided they were worth of a royal visit. It was during the journey, in between stops, that Alistair felt he was able to get much more accomplished however.

During these journeys, most of which averaged about a half day's journey, Alistair would have one of his guards travel ahead to alert the next location. Almost to a one, each place would in return send out a preliminary welcoming party, usually consisting of a bann or elder amongst others, who would greet the king, and then spend the remainder of the journey in discussions regarding the recovery from the Blight, darkspawn attacks, bandits and whatever other challenges they had been facing. Alistair made sure his secretary was riding nearby to take notes, marking particular areas of concern that would require further follow up upon his return to Denerim. Though riding nearby as a noble representative, Alfstanna preferred to remain in the background during these times so that she could gauge not only Alistair's skills and abilities as king, but observe their new guests as well.

When finally their journey did turn northwards and lead them to Highever, the sight of the town and castle, surrounded by fortified walls, was a welcome sight. As they rode through the town, the newcomers could sense the festive atmosphere, the sights and sounds of rejoicing that seemed to preclude the royal party. Alistair was the first to guess, murmuring to Alfstanna as they entered the courtyard to the keep, "I suspect Leliana has had the baby," as he helped her dismount.

Alfstanna glanced over his shoulder as Fergus approached, Teagan not far behind. "I suspect you are correct," she returned in an amused tone, "as I have not seen Fergus this rattled looking since the birth of Oren nearly ten years ago."

Alistair turned then and noted the teyrn's worn out appearance. Swallowing his amusement, Alistair asked, "Is all well, my friend?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Teagan grin widely and nod as Fergus struggled to respond.

Alfstanna stepped around the king then and walked towards Fergus. "Can you not welcome a friend better than that, Fergus Cousland?" she teased. When he opened his arms for a hug, she greeted him warmly, squeezing tightly for just a moment. "I assume Leliana has given birth?" she asked.

Fergus glanced between Alistair and Alfstanna. Nodding, he responded, "Yes, yesterday," he finally managed with an exhausted smile before leading them indoors. "Twin boys, if you can imagine!"

There was much exclamation and congratulations as the retinue was welcomed inside, rooms were assigned and Alistair and Alfstanna were shown to theirs so that they could freshen up before greeting Leliana and the even newer arrivals. Alistair stepped out of his room a short time later, dressed in casual clothes instead of armor, and found Alfstanna exiting her own as well. Offering her his arm, he asked, "Shall we?" before leading her towards the nearby set of rooms that Fergus had pointed out to them earlier.

Alfstanna smiled up at him and nodded. They entered the sitting room to find Leliana resting comfortably in a comfortable chair, pillows and blankets surrounding her. She was holding one of the infants and across the room, and as yet ungreeted, was Lysette holding her other nephew. Releasing Alistair's arm, Alfstanna quickly crossed to greet her friend with a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Lys! How good to see you!"

Lysette gave her friend a wide grin. "You and Alistair timed this perfectly!" she replied as she gently rocked the baby in her arms. Then, giving Alfstanna a look, she asked, "Would you like to hold him?"

Alfstanna nodded. She and Lysette had known each other from childhood, their families having lived so close to each other. Settling the infant into her arms, Alfstanna adjusted until she felt she had a secure hold on him. She was amazed that he did not fuss, nor hardly seemed to notice that he was being handed off from one person to the next. "He's beautiful!" she whispered to Lysette.

"Yes," Lysette agreed. "He is. Looks a lot like his father, I think."

Across the room, Alistair waved off the guards who were trying to crowd their way into the room. Kneeling beside Leliana, he gave her a kiss upon her cheek and looked down at the sleeping baby in her lap. With a shy smile, he murmured, "Well done, my friend, though how you managed two at once...?"

Leliana's tired chuckle reassured him in ways he had not expected. Though it was clear she was exhausted beyond belief, he saw in her eyes contentment, determination, and pride, all of which he had come to expect from her during their travels together. "Thank you, Alistair," she told him softly. "Would you like to hold him?"

Alistair gave her a slightly wary glance, but when all she did was chuckle again, he knew she would not let him off that easily. With an exaggerated sigh, he rose to his feet and then lifted the boy into his arms. Given his experiences with little Branwyn Guerrin, he was decidedly more comfortable holding the new Cousland heir for the first time than he had been before. "What have you named them?" he asked softly.

"You," the bard replied softly, her Orlesian accent thickening slightly as she tired, "are holding Bryce. He is the eldest of the two."

Alistair smiled at that. He had never met Fergus' and Lysette's father, but he had heard a lot about the man and suspected that he would have been pleased. "How did Eleanor react to that?" he queried, thinking of the late teyrn's wife who had survived the fall of Highever.

Leliana smiled. "She was sad a bit at first, but she assured the both of us that it should not be any other way."

Alistair nodded. He had met Eleanor Cousland shortly after her return to her children's lives, and he had come to respect the woman for her courage, persistence and dedication to family. "And the other?"

Leliana opened her mouth to speak, but a deeper voice rose from the far doorway leading into the bedroom. Glancing up, Alistair saw Fergus leaning against the door frame as he said, "We were hoping you might be agreeable to us naming him Maric."

Alistair found himself stunned at the comment. His gaze began scanning the room, finding Lysette first, who nodded at him in reassurance; then he saw Teagan moving to stand with his wife, the elder man's smile held the same note of encouragement; and finally, he glanced over at Alfstanna who had, upon the announcement, turned to face him. They shared a long look for just a moment before she too was nodded in agreement.

"I ... I think it would be perfect," the king finally managed as he began to cross the room to see his father's namesake. When he approached, Alfstanna turned so that he could look at the infant she held. He took a moment to look back and forth between the two boys, and finally glanced up at Fergus in confusion. "How do you tell them apart?" he asked incredulously, much to the merriment of everyone else in the room.

Fergus chuckled and took Bryce from the bewildered monarch. "Very carefully?" he suggested.

Alistair chuckled. "Yes, I imagine so!" he replied.

* * *

Later that evening, Alistair found himself wandering around Highever Castle's keep, taking the time to walk and think and simply have some time to himself. He wondered at Fergus and Lysette and their abilities to survive as they had done given just how much they had lost during the Blight.  _How could they do that?_  he wondered as he made his way up to the battlements.  _How can they go on living, loving, having families when they know just what could happen? Fergus had so much destroyed - not simply his father, but his wife and son! If I marry, I would knowingly place my wife, our children into that position. Can I live with myself if I do that?_

Sighing, the king came to a halt at the wall, resting his arms upon the stone and turning to face up at the darkened sky, the stars and crescent moon shining down over the land below.  _Eamon is right: I need to provide an heir, if I can, so that the throne is secure. But, at what cost?_

Alfstanna had been walking the battlements as well when she noticed the king's arrival. She stepped into the shadows, not necessarily hiding from him, but rather, wanting to observe his actions. She had realized well before they left Denerim that their discussion several weeks past now had set him upon a path of self discovery that he had yet to complete. She was hoping that by watching him now, she might be able to determine just where he intended to take things.

As she looked on, she saw him reach inside his shirt and pull out an amulet, lifting it and turning it in his hands so that he could see it closely in the dim light. He held the pendant in one hand, using the index finger of his other to trace some pattern upon it. Curious now, Alfstanna stepped closer.

Alistair's thoughts, as distant as they had been, were suddenly drawn back to the present as the soft scent of sandalwood tickled his nose. Smiling, because he recognized the owner, he called out, "You do not strike me as someone who hides in the shadows, Tanna, and yet this is the second time you have done so to me."

Alfstanna gasped softly, before chuckling and stepping out into the moonlight. As she did, she saw him turn to face her, leaning his large frame back against the stone wall in a deceptively casual pose. "I was not intending to," she admitted as she walked over to join him. Moving to his side and facing out towards the sea, she added, "I was merely respecting your privacy."

Alistair's brow lifted, but he said nothing, simply giving her one of his lopsided grins and turning to face the sea with her. For a moment, his mind went blank, and he was unsure of where to begin a conversation with her. However, after a moment in which she allowed him the time to think, he said softly, "I have been thinking on what you said."

Alfstanna nodded, having suspected as much. "And have you reached a decision?"

Alistair closed his eyes tightly for a moment before he lifted a hand to his neck and removed the amulet he had been holding a short time before. Turning to face her, he found her turning to face him as well. "I had thought perhaps to wait until we reached Stormgard," he began, observing her eyes as they looked up at him, the moonlight reflecting in her emerald depths, "but I do not want to ... drag this uncertainty out any longer. It is not fair to you, or me I suppose."

He lifted a hand to her face, cradling her cheek with it, tilting her head just slightly so that their gazes could lock. "I will always worry about any woman I ask to be my wife, my queen and the mother of any children we might have," he told her. "It is simply who I am. I cannot change that."

Alfstanna sighed and leaned into his touch. "I understand that," she murmured.

Alistair searched her face one final time before he added, "I know you are quite capable of taking care of yourself, that you do not need anyone to -"

Alfstanna lifted a hand to his wrist and tightened her grip. "No," she told him. "I am capable yes, but I am not perfect." She watched his eyes catch hers again. "I have had to be strong and independent for a very long time, Alistair, and it is a lonely existence. Until now, no man has ever wanted to protect me like that." She smiled at him, watching him relax slightly.

Alistair shifted then, taking her hand in his, staring down at the size difference as hers lay in his palm.  _How do I say this?_  he wondered. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he lifted his gaze back to hers, hoping to find some sort of guidance there. "Alfstanna, I -" Alistair nearly panicked as he searched for the words he wanted. He could feel a slight tremble beginning inside and working its way to his limbs. He suddenly caught a gleam of moonlight reflecting off the amulet in his other hand and took inspiration from that. Releasing her hand, he took the amulet chain in his hands and spread it wide, lifting it and placing it around her neck. "This amulet is the only thing I have from my mother," he began, "and my father made sure that I had it when I was placed with Arl Eamon. I - I'd like to think that it represents their ... acknowledgement of me, of my importance to them though they could not tell me openly."

Alfstanna was unaware of the gentle touch of tears that began rolling down her cheeks as he continued until he lifted the soft pad of his thumb to wipe them away. "All I have to offer you is myself, and that is not saying much even though I am the king."

Alfstanna could not restrain herself from lifting her fingers to his lips to silence him. "You, as so often you do, are cutting yourself off short, Alistair. You are much more than you give yourself credit for. I, however, can see all that you are, and perhaps I will be able to ... show you this in the time that we have together, yes?"

Alistair leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead before shifting suddenly to kneel on one knee before her. "Tanna," he whispered hoarsely, "will you marry me?"

Alfstanna felt the smile crawl across her face. Allowing him to pull her hand to his lips, she stepped forward to assist him back up to his feet. As he rose once more, she lifted her head until their lips were just inches apart. She felt his arms slide around her waist, holding her steady, pulling her closer. "Absolutely," she breathed before closing the final distance between them, her arms sliding up around his neck. "Yes!"


	7. Chapter 7

Word of the official royal engagement spread rapidly. They remained in Highever for another week upon personal request of the teyrn and teyrna who wanted them present for the naming ceremony for the twins. Afterwards, and with much fanfare as they departed through the town of Highever, they continued on their journey to Waking Sea.

Alfstanna had sent Clare on ahead, along with an escort of three Waking Sea guards (despite the end of the Blight, one could never be too careful) to announce the impending arrival of the king and his entourage, so that when they pulled into the courtyard, there was an official welcome prepared. Though Alistair, who had remained beside his new fiancee for the entire journey and now assisted her down from Piceron, grumbled at the attention, he could see the pride in Alfstanna's eyes at the welcome her people gave him, and their affirmation and support of his reign as king, and he could not help but smile. He knew this was probably her last official act as Bann, and he did not want to spoil it for her.

The couple turned and approached the delegation of representatives of the estate and the town, and Alfstanna introduced them to the king. Moments later, she spied Irminric, still moving slowly but otherwise unassisted as he approached. Alfstanna watched her twin brother greet the king, and what she observed next cemented her feelings towards the king: When Irminric moved to bow formally to the king, Alistair stepped forward quickly, placed his left hand at Irminric's right shoulder while extending his right arm to grasp the other's in a warrior's clasp while saying, "No need for formalities, brother. I think we both know where we stand with each other, yes?"

Unrestrained tears began falling down Alfstanna's cheeks as she watched a light that had been missing from Irminric's eyes since before his incarceration in the dungeons of the Arl of Denerim by Rendon Howe returned. His voice stronger than she had heard it in months, he replied with a smile and a firm nod, "I believe that we do, your Majesty." When he turned towards his sister, he opened his arms wide and pulled her close as she threw herself at him, her soft sobs muffled by his clothing. Squeezing his sibling affectionately, he murmured, "Now, now, Alf! What is all this?"

Stepping back, she lifted a hand to his face as she smiled through her tears. "I am glad to see you well, brother," she whispered fiercely. "I was beginning to worry ..."

Irminric placed an arm around his sister's shoulders. "I am sorry I worried you, sister."

Alfstanna lifted her hand to wipe the tears away as she leaned into her brother's embrace. "I am just pleased you are feeling better, Ric," she told him. "I have missed your ... company."

Irminric chuckled, enjoying her use of his nickname from years past. Turning slightly, he gestured both his sister and the king towards the entry of the keep, guiding them up the stone steps himself. "Welcome to Stormgard, your Majesty," he said formally as they walked. Then, more informally he added, "I have no doubt that you will enjoy your stay; you have already claimed our greatest treasure as your own."

Alistair glanced down at Alfstanna and saw her blush, but he also recognized the unmitigated relief that seemed to have eased whatever tensions she had kept hidden until her arrival. When she looked at him, he noticed her blush deepen just slightly, and he grinned. He was beginning to suspect that he and Irminric had a lot more in common than their Templar training and the beautiful young woman that now connected them. "And in that regard, I am a most fortunate man indeed," Alistair returned. "If you have a few moments, however, I would like to discuss your succession to the Bann now that your sister will be, shall we say, otherwise occupied?"

Irminric's breath drew in sharply, but his years as a Templar stood him well in that he made no outward display of emotion. Instead, as they entered the main hall, he gestured them in a different direction, saying, "For a discussion of such importance, I suggest we avail ourselves of the study where it is much more quiet."

* * *

By the completion of the royal tour in Waking Sea and the return to Denerim, Alistair had been away from the palace for roughly two months. By the time that he and Alfstanna rode into the stable yard late that morning, dismounting and handing their steeds over to the grooms, the king had received word that not only had their engagement been announced (as evidenced by the over-exaggerated gathering of cityfolk at the gates with banners, ribbons and confetti in celebration), but that plans had already begun for the ceremony that would unite the two.

No sooner had the king dismounted and assisted his fiancee (who simply gave him a patient, tolerant look because she knew that he was aware she could do it herself, but he liked to be the gentleman) than he was handed several missives. They walked, her arm looped casually through his, from the stables to the palace then and he began skimming the messages. When he sighed, she lifted her head to give him a concerned look. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

Alistair shrugged as he moved on to the third message. "That depends," he replied as he handed her the two that he had read so far.

Alfstanna took them, glanced through them, and then accepted the third message ... and the fourth. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as they continued on towards their destination. "Erm, ... perhaps you would prefer if I have my staff coordinate the wedding arrangements then?" she asked softly.

Alistair heard the teasing note to her voice, but was too overwhelmed with relief to pay it much notice. "Tanna, if you would, I would be forever in your debt ..."

She did laugh at this. "Hmmm," she replied teasingly, "I could think of ... several ways in which to collect on that debt as well..." When she saw the crimson stain working its way up his neck and onto his cheeks, she squeezed his arm. With a grin, she added, "Relax! I promise ... it will be enjoyable for us both!"

Alistair realized then that he had set himself up for her teasing, and though he was embarrassed by her gentle innuendos (for Maker alone knew that Zevran had made much more outlandish remarks during their time together), he understood that it was not ill intentioned. They were climbing the steps to the palace then, and he felt her release his arm so that she could turn towards her apartments (Alistair had sent word ahead to have her belongings moved to the palace since their engagement was now official so that his men would be better able to protect her) when she felt large hands at her waist, grasping securely, spinning her to face him and lifting her off her feet until they were eye level. She emitted a soft cry of alarm mixed with amusement as her arms settled upon his shoulders, the documents she had been carrying falling to the floor. She opened her mouth to protest when she saw the twinkle in his eyes and decided to allow the spontaneous nature of the gesture. The royal guards pointedly ignoring the couple at this point, Alfstanna sighed into the kiss Alistair gave her. "I - I think you have ... the idea!" she finally managed a moment later as he gently settled her back on the floor.

Alistair chuckled as he held her for a moment longer in a loose embrace. "We shall see," he returned.

They parted ways shortly thereafter so that he could meet with Eamon and be brought up to speed on all that had transpired since his departure, and so that Alfstanna could bring her staff, also relocated to the palace, in on the wedding plans. Her first meeting was with Violette and Clare, the two on whom she depended for almost everything. Handing over the letters that Alistair had given to her earlier, Alfstanna announced, "Ladies, we have a wedding to plan before it gets out of control."

Violette glanced at Clare before replying, "My lady, we have already been giving this some thought while we were on the road ..."

The entire afternoon was spent strategizing, organizing and coordinating. Once a date had been chosen (which required a messenger sent to Alistair's secretary before it could be finalized) the rest began falling into place. Arrangements were made to meet with representatives of the Chantry; a dressmaker; the royal kitchen staff and other various groups whose participation in the events and festivities would be expected. The last task on the list for the day, and the one with the most immediate sense of urgency so that guests would arrive in time for the ceremony, was the formalization of the guest list. Alfstanna had ordered tea and a light meal from the kitchens when requesting audience with the head chef, and now Violette, Clare and their counterparts from Alistair's staff were enjoying a short break before setting down to work on the inevitably long list. By the time the session was concluded, a comprehensive list of guests was in hand so that Violette, Andreas (Alistair's secretary) and additional administrative staff could get to work immediately in order to have the invitations sent by the end of the week.

Dinner was late that evening, but Alfstanna finally met up with Alistair in his apartments where they ate in solitude and discussed their afternoons. When she told the king of the progress that had been made in their wedding plans, he seemed astonished. "I ... I can't believe you managed to get so much done so quickly!"

Alfstanna smiled as she took a sip of wine. "Trying to back out already, your Majesty?" she teased.

Alistair gasped sharply as if to protest, but closed his mouth and reached for his own drink, smiling back at her instead. "I knew you would be able to take charge and make things happen!"

Alfstanna laughed softly. "Well," she added, "we made a good start today. By the end of this week, the invitations will go out; and over the next several weeks I will meet with the seamstresses and cobbler to have my dress and boots made -"

Alistair's brow raised. "Boots?" he asked. "Really?"

Alfstanna gave in to the blush. "If you wouldn't mind ..."

Alistair rose from his chair, moving to her side quickly. Kneeling beside her, he took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "I do not mind at all, my lady," he told her, a slight quirk of amusement in his eyes, his smile and his tone of voice. He watched as she relaxed, though she looked away for a long moment. "The day will be as much yours as it is mine, so we should be allowed some comforts, yes?" Her smile was enough answer for him. Rising to his feet again, he assisted her up as well, saying, " At least you will be allowed somewhat normal clothing. I will be in my armor, remember. Now, given the lateness of the hour, let me escort you to your apartments. I suspect you shall be needing all the sleep you can get over the coming weeks."

Alfstanna nodded her agreement as they left the room, the guards silently falling into step around them. "I will admit," she told him softly as they walked, "this task is a bit .. daunting." She felt his arm slide around her waist. They continued to discuss plans and schedules until they arrived at the door to her rooms. Turning to face Alistair, she glanced up and asked, "Will we be returning to our weekly riding routine?"

Alistair grinned. "I would like that," he replied as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "It might make things easier for us to make it through the next two months if we have an established schedule."

Alfstanna agreed by saying, "I was also hoping that we might be able to spend some time sparring together - with weapons, not words - as well." She noted the look of surprise that crossed his face. Lifting a brow, she asked, "What? Did you think I would not be able to tell you have kept your skills intact?"

Alistair's smile widened. "I think I like that idea," he replied. "If nothing else, it should give us a chance to take out our frustrations of the day!"

Alfstanna chuckled. "Yes, I think we might be needing an outlet like that and soon!"

Straightening, Alistair murmured, "On that note I think I shall have to wish you a good night as I have a few meetings to prepare for in the morning."

Alfstanna reached out and squeezed his arm gently. "Good night, your Majesty," she murmured. "I hope we shall see each other at some point tomorrow?"

Alistair nodded and kissed the back of her hand once more. "I will make a point of it." He watched her open the door and enter her rooms. "Good evening, Alfstanna," he called quietly. He watched her smile, her eyes lifting then to meet his with a warm smile before she closed the door behind him, a soft, "Good night," trailing out.

* * *

The days and weeks passed quickly, Alfstanna discovered, but with the assistance of Violette and Clare and their respective assistants from the palace staff, their overall checklist began filling up. The seamstress who Alfstanna favored for the making of all of her formal wear was delighted with the challenge of making the future queen's wedding and coronation gown. The cobbler, a man who had left Stormgard for Denerim upon the express request of Alfstanna, was quick to meet with her, discussing the preferences and details she wanted, and within two weeks had the specialized footwear ready. Responses to the wedding invitations began arriving at the end of the first month, as did certain visitors.

Alfstanna was pleased to see Lysette, Teagan and Branwyn arrive first, removing their entourage to the Arl of Redcliffe's family estate in Denerim. Not only did this give the future queen (and current king when he could manage to sneak away) a place to retreat from the madness now consuming the palace, but it allowed her the opportunity to discuss the upcoming ceremony and festivities with one of her best friends. In the process, as she secured the role of Teagan and Lysette, Alfstanna insisted upon a role for little Branwyn as well. When Fergus and Leliana arrived soon thereafter, choosing to stay at the Teyrn's apartments at the palace, Alfstanna enlisted their services as well. Her brother's arrival and agreement to walk her down the aisle, however, had caused her no end of joy and a few tears as well.

By the week before the ceremony arrived, almost everything was settled, in place or prepared, though Alfstanna had the niggling feeling she was forgetting something. It was in this mindset that, two days before the wedding, she met with Alistair at his private training grounds that were set up off of the royal apartments at the palace. Dressed in her familiar leathers, armed with her dagger and family longsword, she quietly entered the area and found the king, dressed in his plate armor, waiting for her. With a smile, she approached him.

Alistair looked up at her now familiar attire (this was the fourth time they had sparred together) and weaponry and stepped forward to kiss her lightly in greeting. Eyeing her quickly, he asked, "Are you all right? You seem a bit more ... tense than usual."

Alfstanna sighed softly as she stepped into the practice ring, drawing her weapons and taking her stance. "I will be glad when all of this upheaval is over," she replied simply. She watched him echo her movements. "It will be nice to finally have things return to normal."

Alistair snorted softly as he adjusted his helm. He nodded that he was ready, saw her do the same ... and the circling began. Since their first sparring session, which they both decided was an overwhelming success, they had tried to meet once or twice a week. Though they never went more than an hour out of time constraints, the time spent together had helped both of them become more comfortable around the other.

On this day, Alfstanna struck first swinging her longsword towards Alistair's right arm before spinning and attempting to duck beneath his shield with her dagger. It was a complicated move, and one that would have worked on many a shield warrior, but the king was no ordinary recruit. Alistair grunted softly as he blocked the first move with his sword, and the second with his shield, before moving on to his own attempt.

They battled for a short while before pausing to take a break, sitting on a nearby bench together and catching their breath while sharing a water skin. As they sat, Alfstanna ventured a question she had been curious about for months. "Alistair, may I ask you a question?"

The king had reached for a towel to wipe the sweat from his face, so his response was garbled, but when he repeated himself after removing it. "Something you need, my dear?" he replied easily.

She smiled at his easy response and briefly wondered how he would react if she ever asked him something that he found difficult to reply to. "I know you trained as a Templar," she said softly, lowering her voice so that the guards on duty nearby would not overhear, "and I assume that, even though you did not take your final vows, you still used your abilities, yes?"

Alistair nodded. "They were quite useful against darkspawn emissaries," he returned just as quietly. "But then, that was part of the reason Duncan took me into the Wardens, I suppose."

Nodding, Alfstanna began idly checking over her leather gloves simply to give her fingers something to do. The next part of her query was going to be more difficult, at least for her. She knew how intelligent this man was, had seen his brilliance upon many an occasion, and she suspected that he would soon see through her words. "Did you ... ever teach any of your companions your skills?"

Alistair had to admit he was caught off guard at her question. "Well, the Revered Mother made me ... promise, erm ... to ... well, keep my mouth shut," he finally stumbled.

Alfstanna saw the blush rising along his neck.  _Maybe this won't be so bad after all,_  she realized. "Ah ... I see. But, you did anyway, yes?" At his continued discomfort and reluctance, she reached a hand out and placed it upon his arm. "I am not asking this to make you uncomfortable, or to force you to tell me secrets that you intend to keep," she explained. "I have a specific purpose in mind."

Swallowing hard, Alistair nodded before turning to look at her. "I would have," he replied, "and I even told Lys to send me anyone of our companions who might want to learn, but as most of our people were skilled rogues ..."

Alfstanna nodded. "Mmm. I see," she replied. "What if I told you that I knew of someone who wanted to learn?" She saw his eyes snap up to hers at last. With a smile, she added, "Perhaps I should clarify: I know someone who has begun learning who would like to continue."

Alistair stared into her emerald eyes, searching for confirmation of his suspicions that her words caused. "Irminric?" he murmured.

Alfstanna met his gaze and nodded. "From the time I became Bann," she clarified. "But I have not asked him for any additional lessons since before the Blight, and as he is no longer dependent upon lyrium, I did not want to remind him of what he can no longer do." She sighed and leaned back against the bench. "I cannot do much, probably never will be able to, but Ric has always been most concerned about my safety, and he told me he was rather surprised by what I could do given that I had trained as a rogue. At first I refused his offer," she added, watching his expressions, "but he finally told me that I would never have to worry about the Chantry finding out because I would never be able to develop my skills anywhere near the level necessary to be a Templar."

"But you can do some of it?"

She nodded. "I was wondering ...?"

Alistair's face softened slightly. "If I might help you continue?"

Alfstanna nodded again. "If you wouldn't feel comfortable with it ..."

"No," he assured her quickly, "it is not that. I must admit that I am a little ... surprised that you are able to use the skills."

Her smile widened. "I have heard people describe me as "a woman of many diverse and unique talents' upon occasion," she said.

Alistair snorted softly, a chuckle escaping his lips. Reaching an arm out, he pulled her close for a quick hug. "That, my dear, I can agree with completely!" He glanced down at her again. "Tanna, I will agree to help you, if only because of my own concerns about keeping you safe," he promised softly. "Besides, if I am going to teach someone Templar talents, why not keep it in the family, so to speak?"

Alfstanna giggled softly. "Why not indeed," she returned.

Alistair rose to his feet. "Right, then. Shall we spend the remaining time today assessing your skill level? That way," he added in a whisper, "I will know where to begin after our ... honeymoon?"

Alfstanna smiled as she began describing her informal training that her brother had given her over the years. She saw that Alistair was impressed, and when she began to demonstrate the lessons learned, she noticed a gleam of pride and appreciation take over. He made suggestions, gave her examples of his own skills and techniques, and agreed that, while she may not have the same skill level as a Templar, she certainly knew enough to protect herself if necessary. As their session came to a close and they began their journey indoors together, he murmured, "I am quite impressed." Then, leaning down so that only she could hear, he added, "But then, each and every time we are together you impress me. I am looking forward to a future filled with surprises."

Alfstanna smiled warmly and grinned back at him, "As am I," before she kissed his cheek in thanks.


	8. Chapter 8

The day of the ceremony finally arrived, and Alistair was nervous which in turn caused him to fidget. When he began shifting his feet yet again, he felt a hand at his back and heard a quietly hissed, "Get a hold of yourself your Majesty!" from Fergus who stood beside him. On Fergus' other side was Teagan, who covered his mouth with his hand and swallowed a smirk and overall seemed to be doing a better job than most at keeping his amusement held in check.

"Maker's breath," Alistair hissed back at the teyrn in response, "are we  _ever_  going to get started?"

Fergus grinned at his friend. "At least she allowed you to wear normal clothing," he reminded him. "She could have insisted on your plate armor."

Alistair shuddered slightly. "I offered to," he admitted. "Thankfully she took mercy upon my own stupidity ..."

There came a stern "ahem" from Alistair's other side as the Grand Cleric frowned at them until the king finally turned his head away, rolling his eyes. The most important day of his life (in his eyes, not Eamon's or many of the other nobles who viewed his coronation as the most important day), and he was being scolded like a child.  _Maker's mercy_ , he prayed silently,  _let me get through this with my dignity intact!_  Alistair glanced towards Teagan then who gave him a slight nod and a wink of encouragement. Unable to help himself, Alistair grinned and felt himself relax a bit.

* * *

Alfstanna stood near the doorway, glancing inside periodically as the barricade would open and shut. Each time, her breath caught, her nerves jumped and her heart raced.  _Maker, there are so many people in there!_  she thought. She felt a strong hand at her shoulder and knew without turning that it was her brother. Lifting her hand to his, she smiled and murmured, "Ric, am I doing the right thing? Should I -?"

Irminric squeezed gently so as not to mess up his sister's gown ... he could see the Teyrna of Highever eyeing him closely to make sure that he did not.. "Relax, Alf," he murmured near her ear. "You will be fine. This is more than simply doing your duty, you know. I know you care for him, and that he cares for you. Father would be proud of you if he was here."

Taking a deep breath, Alfstanna leaned back against her brother's towering frame. "Thank you," she breathed. She felt one more affectionate squeeze on her shoulder before Lysette approached and whispered, "It is time." Straightening, Alfstanna nodded and smoothed out her gown. Leliana moved to her side to assist, and within moments, everyone was ready. Lining up so that Lysette and Leliana had Branwyn standing between them to escort Alfstanna and Irminric, the doors were opened by two royal guards. The music began soon thereafter, and the procession began.

Alfstanna waited for the women to get moving leaving a considerable distance before she and her brother began their trip.

"Ready?"

Just the simple sound of his voice, the calming pressure of his arm beneath her own did much in the way of calming her nerves. Smiling up at him, she said, "As I will ever be!" and they started down the aisle.

* * *

Alistair heard the music and as if programmed to do so, his head spun towards the great doors that were opening. Taking a deep breath, he did not realize he was holding it until he heard a softly hissed, "Breathe!" from Fergus. Swallowing, he did just that and watched as Leliana and Lysette escorted little Branwyn towards the front of the chantry. Then lifting his gaze beyond them, he caught his first glimpse of his bride ...

Alfstanna's hand tightened on her brother's arm as she noticed Alistair dressed in his royal finery: black breeches and boots; a deep blue tunic with shots of silver thread scattered through the material so that no matter which way he moved it glittered; a black cloak lined in blue upon his shoulders, edged in silver trim an with a silver clasp which had the Theirin crest enameled upon it (she had given this to him as her wedding gift to him), the crown of silverite that rested atop his head signifying his position. Her breath caught as she watched the king turn his position to face her, his eyes lifting past those of his friends to find her. Even from across the distance, she could see the look in his eyes. Her smile widening, her excitement finally beginning to override her anxiety, she continued to move closer and closer.

Alistair was stunned when he saw her. During the Blight, on the few occasions they had encountered each other, he had only ever seen Alfstanna in her leather armor. Since then, upon occasion but usually at Landmeets, he had seen her in normal, everyday clothing, occasionally in skirts but usually in her trademark trousers and tunics. But today ...

Her secretary, Violette, had checked with Andreas to verify the king's color selection so that the two would compliment each other. Now, as he watched his bride walk through the chantry to join him, he could see that the colors she wore were a perfect compliment not only to his, but to bring out her beauty as well: her gown was a matching deep blue with silver threads woven through it, opening with a wider neck than most gowns worn by Ferelden women (Alistair had to wonder if only briefly if Alfstanna had been influenced by Leliana and her Orlesian background in this regard, though he certainly could appreciate the results) as well as long, open and flowing sleeves that almost reached the floor, the skirt was full, flouncy, and with the movement from Alfstanna's procession, the silver threads caught the lighting inside the chantry and reflected it back giving the impression of the shimmering waves of the Waking Sea; additionally, there was a corset-like midsection made of black material and laced with silver threads. Her hair had been left down and curled softly so that it bounced gently around her shoulders as she moved, topped by a simple crown of Andraste's Grace woven together to form a circlet.

Alistair watched as Irminric led his sister around the dais and up the stairs in front of the chantry altar. Once there, he stepped aside, retreating to the side beside Lysette and Leliana and opposite of Fergus and Teagan (who now held his daughter in his arms). Alfstanna lifted her gaze to his as he reached for her hands and, with a small smile, the couple turned to face the Revered Mother, their fingers still linked together.

The priestess began the ceremony with a benediction before requesting Alistair and Alfstanna to kneel. While the woman began sermonizing on the nature of marriage, and the duties of husband and wife (Alistair felt a tremble run through Alfstanna's hand and glanced to his right to see her swallowing amusement which nearly set him off), the king found himself falling into old and familiar meditation techniques to help him through the ensuing boredom.  _Why, oh why did we not have a small ceremony at the palace?_  he wondered.  _Or, better yet, run off to Haven to have Brother Genitivi perform it? We could have avoided the whole boredom factor and traveled the land to connect with the people at the same time ..._

A gentle squeeze of his hand alerted him to the next phase of the ceremony. Hearing the Revered Mother softly requesting that they stand, Alistair rose first and assisted his bride to her feet. Turning to face each other, their gazes locked upon each other as the priestess asked them to exchange their rings after which she began wrapping the special ribbon - black with two separate crests embroidered in blue and silver at each end: the shield with stag and crossed swords of the Theirin crest *****  and the shield and mabari crest symbolizing the Kingdom of Ferelden - around their now joined left hands in a pattern that looked intricate but would allow them to remove their hands without untying it. Alistair, however, heard nothing save the frantic beat of his heart even as he watched Alfstanna's lips move as she began repeating her vows.

_I Alfstanna, do come here of my own free will, to seek the partnership of Alistair Theirin. I come with all love, honor and sincerity, wishing only to become one with him, whom I love. Always will I strive for Alistair's happiness and welfare._ _****** _

Alfstanna turned her attention to Alistair as the Revered Mother began reciting the words for him to repeat. She squeezed his hand just lightly enough to snap him out of his thoughts, and saw his lips turn into a smile of thanks and relief just as he began speaking.

_I Alistair Theirin, do come here of my own free will, to seek the partnership of Alfstanna. I come with all love, honor and sincerity, wishing only to become one with her, whom I love. Always will I strive for Alfstanna's happiness and welfare._ _****** _

The Revered Mother continued with the remainder of the ceremony, finally declaring that the king and Alfstanna were married and that they could seal the arrangement with a kiss. Alfstanna was looking up at him then and saw the spark of emotion flare behind his amber gaze just a moment before he leaned down to do just that. Neither noticed the outburst of cheers and thunderous applause.

When they broke apart, finally noticing their surroundings and both blushing slightly, they turned towards the Revered Mother who instructed them to pull their hands from the knot. As they did, Lysette stepped forward to retrieve it, taking care to keep the knot from coming apart. The Revered Mother then requested that Alfstanna kneel so that she could be crowned queen. Alistair assisted his wife to her knees first and then moved into position in front of her but beside the Revered Mother who began speaking in regards to the expected duties of the queen: to Alistair's mind the duties mentioned were remarkably similar to the duties of wife that the priestess had enumerated earlier, but perhaps with a slightly stronger emphasis on the necessity of having an heir. He caught his wife glancing up at him then, a slight smile toying at her lips, a sparkle of mischief in her emerald gaze. "Self righteous windbag," he muttered just loud enough for Alfstanna to hear. When she ducked her head quickly, he knew she was laughing silently.

And then it was time for Alistair to recite the words, extract Alfstanna's promise, and crown her as his queen. Before he started, he nodded slightly to Leliana who stepped forward to remove the crown of flowers that Alfstanna had worn so that the crown could be placed. Once Leliana had stepped back, Alistair began.

"Will you to the utmost of your ability assist the king, your husband in maintaining the laws of the Maker and the true profession of the Chant of Light within Ferelden? Will you help in maintaining and preserving inviolable the settlement of the Chantry, and the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established in Ferelden?" *******

Alfstanna raised her head and replied in a loud, clear tone, "All this I promise to do. The things which I have here before promised, I will perform, and keep. The Maker make it so." Then lowering her head, she felt Alistair set the crown she was to wear upon her head. She knew it was a similar design, though more feminine and befitting a queen, to the one that Alistair wore. Thus settled, Alistair assisted her as she rose to stand beside him. Fergus stepped forward then, settling a matching cloak upon Alfstanna's shoulders, assisting with the clasp. As he did so, he caught her glance and gave her a quick wink, noting that she smiled in response. When he stepped back, Alfstanna began to look out before her as the Revered Mother took the opportunity to sermonize one last time, before closing the ceremony and presenting the new queen to the guests before them.

 _Almost there!_  Alistair thought as he moved to his wife's right side and took her hand securely in his. He spared her a brief glance and murmured, "Ready?"

Smiling, Alfstanna gave him the barest hint of a nod. "Absolutely," she replied. She felt the train of her dress being straightened out behind her and knew that Lysette and Leliana were making it easier for her to not trip.

Alistair smiled at his wife (his  _wife!_ ) and began leading her towards the steps. They descended them together, arms linked, pausing for a moment at the base when the heard a slight ripple of laughter through the gathering of guests before them. When it became clear that the distraction was coming from their right, both Alfstanna and Alistair followed ... to find that little Branwyn Guerrin had escaped her father's hold (she had been standing beside him) and was toddling over towards the king and queen. Dressed in a dress of blue which matched her eyes, she walked up to Alistair, moving extremely quickly for a two year old, and lifted her arms to him. "Up!" she told him.

Alfstanna managed to swallow her chuckle of amusement as she felt a slight tremor through her husband's hand. Releasing her grip from his hand, she pressed slightly against his arm to encourage him to lift the child and carry her. She smiled when he did so, bringing little Branwyn to his him and at eye level with Alfstanna. The queen felt her heart melt as the child turned towards her, pointing and saying, "Pwetty Alf!" Alfstanna heard the chuckles and laughter that spread across the room and smiled. Leaning in towards the child, she said, "Pretty Branwyn!" and rubbed noses with the girl. The royal couple were spared further incident as Teagan stepped forward then, his face flushed slightly with embarrassment, and took his daughter from Alistair. Once freed again, and both grinning with delight, the king and queen continued on their way down the center aisle and out of the chantry.

Outside the building, Alistair nodded at Givens who then moved the guards to their positions surrounding the king and queen as they moved to the nearby waiting carriage. Beside the vehicle, an open air variety as the weather had turned out to be sunny and beautiful, stood the stable master. "Master Neely!" Alistair greeted the woman as he began assisting Alfstanna into the carriage.

Dressed in her own finery, the woman bowed at the royal couple. "I did not want to miss the opportunity to extend my congratulations," she admitted with a grin, closing the door behind the king as he sat, "and as the stables are my purview, who better to put in charge of the royal carriage?"

Alfstanna giggled softly and replied, "Who indeed?" as Neely stepped away and directed the driver to leave for the palace with the new bride and groom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * A/N: The Theirin crest is my own creation. I am trying to establish a difference between the Theirin family crest and the crest of the Kingdom of Ferelden (as found on Dragon Age Wiki)
> 
> ** A/N: Source for the vows comes from the website skevents. vzones Wedding /wiccanvow2. htm (spaces are inserted so taht you can see the entire website)
> 
> *** A/N: The oath taken by Alfstanna is based loosely off of the oath taken by the Queen of England as found on Wikipedia. I have changed words as necessary to fit Ferelden and the position of Queen (consort) to the king as necessary.


	9. Chapter 9

The carriage took them on a long circuitous route throughout the city of Denerim on its way to its final destination: the royal palace. Both Alistair and Alfstanna had insisted upon this as a way to give the common folk of the city - the workers, the shopkeepers, as well as the elves - the opportunity to partake in the joy and enthusiasm of the day. Where the nobility had been able to witness and participate in the actual ceremony, the rest of the city was allowed to be among the first to wish the royal couple well in their new journey together.

Alfstanna smiled and waved, looking at particular individuals as they passed through the crowded streets. She saw several young children ducking behind a mother's skirts or a father's leg; small groups of teen-aged girls whispering, pointing and then promptly blushing in embarrassment as the queen smiled at them; but the one sight Alfstanna thought she might never forget was an older couple, well into their declining years, standing in the doorway of a home and simply smiling at the carriage as they rode past, the older man with his arm around (presumably) his wife's shoulders. Both looked happy, both looked content. Alfstanna found herself hoping that she might have something like that to look forward to with Alistair.

Alistair waved as well, eying people as he could, though he was finding it increasingly easy to become distracted by his wife as she would lean towards him, pointing out particular people or groups, commenting on a particular window display or banner declaring congratulations and support for the king and his new queen. It was during one such ... distraction that Alistair glanced down and noticed his wife's feet. "You really did it," he murmured near her ear.

Alfstanna glanced up at him with a slight frown. "Did what?"

Alistair used his chin to gesture towards her feet. peeking out beneath the skirt to her wedding gown was a black leather toe to a boot. "Boots."

Alfstanna grinned at him. "Did you doubt that I would?" she asked.

Alistair grinned back. "Not at all ... I just, well ... It's one thing to talk about it and another to actually see it, I guess." His smile shifted to one of his lopsided grins as he added, "I have no knowledge of women's clothing styles, but I am pretty sure that boots are right up there on the 'off limits' category."

Alfstanna laughed and leaned against his shoulder. "Yes," she agreed, "I suppose that is true ... if you are an Orlesian, or Antivan or even a Tevinter. But I am Ferelden, and we are nothing if not comfortable in our boots, yes? Besides," she added in a conspiratorial whisper, "I am now queen, am I not?"

Alistair lifted her left hand and kissed the wedding band on her finger. "That you are, my dear," he returned.

Alfstanna's look softened a bit at his move, which caught her completely off guard, but she did finally manage to finish her thought. "If I am queen, then I am allowed to set the styles and trends in Ferelden." Alistair's laughter warmed her from the inside out.

"Yes, my dear, I think it is safe to say that!" he told her.

Their ride through the city continued as it had a second purpose beyond giving the everyday folk access to the royals: it allowed the nobility and royal guests the opportunity and time in which to travel from the chantry to the royal palace for the grand and glorious reception that was to follow. As Alistair thought of this, of all the names and faces that he would have to remember so that he would not embarrass himself, he felt his stomach beginning to churn in anxiety.

Alfstanna felt her husband begin to withdraw from her, his normally ebullient personality now hiding behind silence and solitude. The closer they drew to their final destination, the worse it seemed to become. Leaning towards him once more, Alfstanna murmured, "Are you all right? You look as if you are about to face a horde of darkspawn."

Alistair's laugh was one of nervous anxiety, not his usual warm chuckle of amusement. "No," he told her, "if it was a horde of darkspawn, at least I would know what to do!"

"Then what is it?" her eyes lifted to his, concern clearly evident.

Alistair sighed. He had attended several large functions since his coronation, but compared to the size and scale of their wedding reception, they had all been minuscule. He took several moments to explain to her before adding, "I'm just a bit ... nervous is all."

The carriage pulled up the drive to the palace entrance then, and Alfstanna could have sworn that she felt her husband jump as it came to a halt. When the footman opened the door, Alistair stood, stepping down first so that he could assist Alfstanna with her gown which seemed to want to be all over all at once. Once she was standing beside him, their ever present contingent of guards around them, she turned towards her husband. Reaching up, she smoothed his tunic, adjusted the collar, and told him, "You have no reason to be nervous. You are the king. You are the reason they are all here."

Alistair caught her hand again and brought it to his lips. "This is the largest function I have attended with so many important people in attendance," he said quietly. "What if I forget their names? Where they are from?"

Alfstanna smiled at him. "I purposely did not set this up as a receiving line so that we would not have to face that situation," she explained. "However, I will be beside you for a large portion of this, I should think, and I can help with the ones you do not know." Her smile widened. "See? There are benefits to marrying a Bann."

Alistair knew his look of relief was obvious, but he did not care at that moment. Acting on instinct, he leaned over to kiss her. A moment later as he reluctantly lifted his head, he asked, "Why do I get the feeling I am going to owe you oh so much after all is said and done?"

Alfstanna chuckled. "Just remember," she teased, watching his face closely as she whispered, "you can make it up to me ... later." She saw the blush creep up his neck then and giggled. Taking his hand in hers, she said, "Now, shall we attend our guests, husband? We would not want a civil war or an international incident to begin because we are tardy for our own wedding reception, now would we?"

Placing her arm on his, suppressing his embarrassment at his wife's words, Alistair led her up the steps as he replied in a somewhat even voice, "No, my dear, that we would not."

* * *

Alistair quickly came to realize that his wife had been right and that he need not have worried. The reception was being held in the grand ballroom simply to accommodate the sheer number of guests who had been invited. Alfstanna had chosen a more open, less formal gathering, one that would allow her and Alistair to circulate amongst the nobility and honored guests. The palace kitchen staff had outdone themselves (which Alfstanna knew had more to do with the organizational skills of Violette and Clare) with the quantity and variety of foods being served; and Cyril and two of his barmaids had been brought in to serve some of Ferelden's best brews and ales (for this was not simply a wedding, or an international event, but a display of the country's finest foods and wines as well, with the potential for trade agreements to form). Alfstanna grinned as she observed many of the male guests, both young and old, lining up for service, as well as several of the women.

As she traversed the floor from one cluster of guests to another, greeting and speaking with the guests as she moved, Alfstanna spotted Clare across the room directing some of the multitude of servants carrying both food and drink items. "You seem to be in your element, my friend," Alfstanna observed as she approached. "I am quite impressed with your skills."

Clare blushed slightly, replying, "Thank you, my lady - erm, your Majesty!"

Alfstanna chuckled good naturedly. "No worries," she reassured the woman softly. "Have you seen my brother recently?"

Clare nodded. "Yes, your Majesty," she replied, pointing on the far side of the room. "Bann Irminric is over there speaking with Bann Shianni."

Alfstanna glanced in the direction indicated. "Ah, yes. Thank you, Clare. And," she added, "keep up the excellent work!"

On her way across the room, Alfstanna stopped first beside Alistair as he was leaving a conversation with Arl Leonas Bryland. Interlacing her fingers with his, she leaned up and kissed him, murmuring, "How is it going?"

Alistair was proud of the fact that he could keep the blush from spreading across his face as she kissed him. "Not as bad as I had first feared," he admitted. "How are things for you?"

Alfstanna smiled. "Not bad at all," she replied. "I was on my way to speak with my brother, seeing as the last time we talked was before the ceremony and only a few words at best." She winked up at her husband. "Some girls might take that as a bad sign."

"And you don't?" he asked, smiling down at her. He knew all too well just how close Alfstanna and Irminric were.

Alfstanna grinned. "Not at all. It just gives me ... ammunition, if you will," she explained. "I will tease him like crazy from now on!"

Alistair smiled and kissed her forehead. He was about to turn towards Irminric, to speak to his new brother-in-law when he spotted Eamon across the room making his way over. Sighing, he leaned near Alfstanna's ear and whispered, "Run for it! Eamon's looking for me."

With one last quick kiss that she let linger just a moment longer than necessary (and heard some whoops of amusement around them), she darted off in the direction of her brother. On her way, she stopped briefly to speak with Lysette, Fergus and the Antivan ambassador who, it appeared, was a distant cousin of Fergus' first wife Oriana; followed almost immediately by a brief encounter with the Grey Warden Commander, Nathaniel Howe, and his second, a rather exuberant dwarf named Sigrun; and then Bann Sighard of Dragon's Peak. It was as this final discussion took place and while Alfstanna was making eye contact with her brother that Alfstanna heard the surly drunken tones of Vaughan Kendells as he stepped to her side. Alfstanna managed to keep a semblance of a smile upon her face, but she saw Bann Sighard's turn from dismay to disgust as Vaughan, now the Arl of Denerim since his father's death at Ostagar and his rescue from the hands of Rendon Howe by Lysette and Alistair, said, "So, pretty little Alfstanna. I bet you think you're better than the rest of us now, don't you?"

Before she could respond, Sighard was moving forward in an attempt to lead the man away. "Vaughan," he hissed, "get a hold of yourself! You are speaking to the queen for Maker's sake!"

But the younger Arl was not to be appeased. "Wha'do I care?" he demanded loudly, his words slurring as he spoke. "Shhhhhhe's nothin' but a -"

Alfstanna watched in stunned amusement as Bann Sighard forcefully "assisted" Vaughan towards the exit where he was intercepted by two of the palace guards. Alfstanna watched as the men, moving to block the Arl from the view of the rest of the room, murmured, "Allow us, my lord. We shall see that he makes his exit without further disturbance." When Sighard returned to her side, she smiled. "Thank you, Sighard."

The Bann smiled ruefully and bowed slightly. "I am sorry if that boorish excuse of a man has brought any unhappiness to your day, your Majesty."

Alfstanna's smile widened slightly and she wrapped her arm through his. "Set your mind at ease, my friend," she murmured as they walked towards her brother, "for that is what I intend to do. We both know that Vaughan is rather ... overly fond of his drink. Perhaps, once he is sober again, a visit from ... concerned parties might impress upon him the seriousness of his error? Suggest that he find a way to refrain from a repeat performance?"

Sighard smiled and nodded. "I know exactly who might be able to assist with that." Turning towards her as they reached Irminric and Shianni, he bowed slightly and kissed Alfstanna's hand. "As always, your Majesty, it has been a pleasure speaking with you."

Alfstanna returned his nod and turned to her brother after Sighard had gone. "Still stirring up trouble no matter where you are or your station in life, eh sister?"

Alfstanna laughed and hugged her brother's arm as she slid her arm through. "Ric, stop or you will give Bann Shianni the wrong idea!" she admonished playfully. Turning her attention to the elf, Alfstanna asked, "Have you been enjoying yourself today, Bann Shianni?" Alfstanna could see a flush of enjoyment, and perhaps some liquid refreshment?, on the woman's face. She knew Shianni from their days together serving as Banns for the past two years together. The queen had been half afraid that the elf would not attend such a large function, but she was pleasantly surprised to be able to speak with her now.

Bann Shianni nodded, her short hair bouncing about her face as she replied, "Oh, yes, your Majesty! I will say that I have been curious as to shem - er, human marriages practices compared to our own." She paused for a moment, as if to censor herself, and then added, "My people and I wish you and the king ... well."

Alfstanna smiled warmly at the young woman, sensing her restraint. Alfstanna knew from their time together before that Shianni could be a rather coarse, hard-speaking, hard-drinking representative of her people, but she also knew her to be a forthright and honest one as well, which was the main reason that her people had chosen her as representative. Alfstanna was about to respond when she felt a tenseness building in Irminric, his body stiffening, his arm pulling from hers. Frowning, she glanced up at him. "Ric? What is wrong? Are you ill?"

Alfstanna and Shianni could only watch as the man seemed to withdraw into himself, his vision appeared to become unfocused, his response to everything around him non-existent. Glancing around the room, Alfstanna saw Alistair looking over at her, and she lifted a hand to signal him over when two things happened at once: Alfstanna saw her husband get a horrified expression upon his face before he reacted by roaring a battle cry, the likes of which she had not heard from anyone since the Blight as he used a Templar move she recognized; as this was going on, she saw her brother begin to move, a similar position taken before switching gears to push Alfstanna away from him towards Shianni. Alfstanna managed to keep herself from falling to the floor, leaning upon the elf as they stumbled. Once she regained her balance, Alfstanna pushed Shianni away, shouting, "Go find the guards!" before turning back towards her brother.

Irminric was now facing off against two people, both of whom appeared to be mages. Alfstanna could hear shouts, cries, screams of alarm, terror and battle all around her. She looked frantically around for a way out from the corner where she was currently stuck, but she did not want to leave Irminric at the mercy of these attackers. She saw a mad rush as guards swarmed over towards Alistair, one of them going down in what appeared to be an assault by someone armed with a sword. She also noticed two of her guards moving in her direction, but they suddenly stopped moving when they were about halfway there. Her gaze turning back towards her brother, Alfstanna saw Irminric trying to summon what energy he could to make a move against them, but though the instinct and desire was there, since her twin's recovery from the lyrium addiction, his energy reserves were simply not there and his defense failed. The last thing she noticed as she suddenly realized she could not move and felt herself becoming very drowsy, was Irminric falling down, being knocked aside. "Ric!" she tried to scream, but felt the word captured in her throat.

"Do not fight it, your Majesty," a deep voice suggested from behind her. "You cannot fight off the effects of the spell."

Alfstanna tried desperately to prove him wrong ... just before she felt her eyes close through no will of her own...


	10. Chapter 10

Alistair was in the process of extricating himself from the conversation Eamon had been trying to have with him when he heard a masculine voice saying, ""So, pretty little Alfstanna. I bet you think you're better than the rest of us now, don't you?" Aside from the drunken slur, something sparked in the king's memory.  _I know that voice ..._  Turning, Alistair began searching for his wife ...

He finally spotted her over by Bann Sighard, but she was turned away from him, so he could not catch her attention. Sighing softly, Alistair excused himself one last time from Eamon's company and began crossing the room. He barely noticed Givens following at a discreet distance, and wasn't sure if it was a testament to the fact that he was finally becoming used to the "hazards" of the job or simply that he had finally become numb to the guards who constantly dogged his steps as he maneuvered his way around clusters of people. He saw Teagan in an animated discussion with a representative (if you could call him that) from the Free Marches and Arl Bryland. He passed Lysette speaking with Brother Genitivi and Sister Justine, apparently having a discussion regarding the Denerim chantry's collection of artifacts. Beyond that, he noticed Cyril hugging Leliana, and Alistair couldn't help but smile. Leliana had only found out in the past few years that the man was her father, and they both were thrilled at the knowledge and the chance to get to know one another.

Alistair looked to where he had least seen his wife and found that she had moved on to speak with her brother and Bann Shianni. Turning towards them, he noticed Alfstanna turn, a note of concern crossing her features. They made eye contact ... just as Alistair felt the hair at the back of his neck and along his forearms begin standing on end and heard a slight buzzing sound ... The moment recognition hit him, he knew that Alfstanna noticed because her face turned from concern to shock. Reacting on instinct, Alistair roared the battle cry from his days as an active Warden as he launched one of the Templar attacks he had been taught during his years as a Templar initiate.

It was complete utter chaos and mayhem that followed, and Alistair quickly found that not only were there mages present, but at least two archers and several rogues and warriors. After his initial attack, the king began searching the room for anything that he could use as a weapon. He could hear the cries and screams of the guests, additional battle cries by those with enough sense and training to recognize an attack. Alistair was never more thankful for his assigned guards than he was when Givens and four others appeared then, surrounding him, taking on the melee fighters so that he could focus his attention upon the mages.

Immediately he began searching for Alfstanna. She was more than capable of defending herself, he knew ... but like himself and the rest of the guests, she was unarmed. With people swarming all over around him, those in battle and those who were trying to flee, Alistair, despite his height, could not see her. "Tanna!" he called out in the hopes that she would hear him and be able to respond. When he tried to move in the general direction he had last seen his wife, his bodyguards, now doubled in numbers and completely surrounding him, began herding him towards the far end of the room. "Givens!" he thundered as the man forcefully grasped the king's arm to propel him to safety.

"Your Majesty, we must get you to safety!" the guard insisted.

"But, my wife -!"

"Let Goddard and his men do their job!"

Moments later, they were in one of the smaller meeting chambers in the palace; a room that had only one door in and out. Still surrounded by his guards, Alistair tried pleading with Givens once more until the man reluctantly agreed, "I will go and check on things for you, your Majesty, but you must promise to remain here!"

Alistair nodded and watched the man leave the room. He felt ... flat, deflated, inept. He was a trained warrior, for Maker's sake, and he had managed to get through the Blight fighting darkspawn and killing the archdemon. Grumbling to himself, the king crossed the room to seat himself in one of the chairs at the meeting table. As he sat there, he struggled to keep from thinking about the danger that his new bride, friends and acquaintances were all in out in the ballroom. Although, he had to admit if only silently, he did not want to be the person interrupting Alfstanna on her wedding day. Given the woman's superb skills as seen during their sparring sessions, he knew that he would not want to be the one going against her.

The door to the room opened a little while later, startling Alistair and causing him to jump to his feet. But where he expected to find his wife or Givens, he found instead Teagan, Fergus and Lysette entering the room, dark looks of consternation on their faces. Before he could say a word, Lysette stepped forward and said, "Alistair, you need to come with us ... now."

Alistair felt his heart sink at her words and the tone in which she had said them. As he stood, his guards moved to block his way. Before he or the others could protest, Givens returned and stepped into the room. With a simple nod at his men, they moved aside and allowed Alistair to leave the room, following close behind him.

He walked with Teagan to his left, Fergus behind him and Lysette to his right. "What is it?" he asked. "Have you seen Alfstanna?"

No one responded, and it was Lysette who directed them back to the ballroom, now cleared of guests and servants, only a few guards remaining who, Alistair noted, were from Alfstanna's detail. Leliana, he saw, was speaking with the healing mage, Petra, and both were kneeling beside the fallen ex-Templar, Bann Irminric. Alistair gasped as he realized this, his head suddenly scanning around the room. He knew that if she were here, Alfstanna would be beside her brother, tending to him. The fact that she was not told him more than he wanted to know.

"Alistair?" Lysette was grasping his arm, keeping him from moving forward to check on Irminric. "We need to know what you saw happening," she told him. "We need to know who or what you might have seen."

Before he could even begin to formulate an answer, he felt a strong hand at his shoulder and turned towards Teagan. "We will get her back for you, Alistair, that I promise. But we need to know more about what happened, who was behind this in order to determine where she was taken."

Alistair suddenly felt as if he was separated from his body, watching himself at a distance. He could hear his friends talking to him, see the others in the room as the investigation began to get under way, but there was a muted fuzziness to it all. He felt ... detached? Disconnected? He heard a voice suggesting that he was in shock, but did not recognize its owner. Then Lysette's soft voice was telling the others to step back, and she moved to stand in front of the king, speaking to him the whole time. He could see her clearly: lips moving as she spoke directly to him, her eyes focused on his, her hand moving back just before swinging forward ...

The sudden loudness of Lysette's hand connecting with Alistair's cheek was enough to help him "reconnect" with himself. Instantaneously, he lifted his hand to the offended cheek, a soft grunt of pain escaping him just before he said, "He-ey!"

Lysette finally managed a soft smile up at him. "There you are, my friend," she said.

Alistair blinked a couple of times as he realized what had just happened. He opened his mouth to reply when he saw his guards moving to encircle Lysette. Sighing in frustration, he told them, "Enough! You know well and good she is no threat to me! Now, why don't we get down to finding my wife?"

Per Teagan and Lysette's original requests, Alistair recounted what he had observed of the attack: the sensations he had felt, his natural instinct to react with some of his Templar talents based on his years of training. He recalled that it had been a mixed attack, mages and rogues, before his guards had surrounded him and pulled him from the room. "I have no idea what happened after that," he finished. He gestured over towards his brother-in-law. "Have you spoken to Irminric yet?"

Lysette shook her head. "No. He was knocked unconscious for a time, and when he awoke, he began calling for his sister and becoming all agitated. Petra sedated him for the time being. She says he has no major injuries, but that the majority of his complaints may be more psychological than physical."

Alistair groaned softly. He remembered all too clearly the day they had found Irminric in the dungeon of the estate of the Arl of Denerim. He sincerely hoped that the man did not revert back to something like that. Turning towards Givens, he ordered, "Have some of the guards assist the healing mage Petra with her patient. He is to remain as a guest at the palace. Use Alfstanna's old apartments for him for the time being. Her staff can assist as well, seeing as they might be more comfortable and familiar to him."

"Yes, your Majesty," Givens replied before turning towards his men.

Alistair turned his attention back to his friend. "Lys," he ventured, still hesitant to voice the question in fear that it might make it more of a reality than it already was for him, "do we know ... anything about who might be behind this?" He could see Fergus and Teagan speaking with others across the room, some were guards, some were guests, but it seemed that the two noblemen had taken the initiative to begin the investigation.

"Not yet," she replied. Looking up at him, she added, "Alistair, you know as well as I do that Alfstanna is a strong and resourceful woman. If she can find a way to break free, to escape, she will."

Alistair knew there was a bit of a wobble in his voice as he asked, "Do we even know she is still alive?" He was surprised at Lysette's response.

"Of that I have no doubt," the Hero of Ferelden said immediately. "If they had wanted her killed, they would have done so on the spot, with a crossbow, an arrow, even a magical spell of some sort. They were not out to kill her, nor you for that matter. The attack was a distraction, a cover up for her kidnapping."

As he listened, Alistair heard the confidence in Lysette's voice and he took faith in that. She had been the one to lead them through the Blight, and he had put his complete trust in her at that time. He saw no reason that he should not do so now. Leliana approached them then, sliding her arm through Alistair's and squeezing it gently in a gesture of friendship and support. He gave her a half smile before saying, "If it needs to be official, I will say it now: you and Teagan can be in charge of the investigation. I cannot think of anyone I would trust more with this..."

Lysette nodded. "We will find out who did this, Alistair, I promise you. And you and your wife will be together before you know it."

"Now," Leliana broke in after exchanging a look with Lysette, "why don't I escort you to your rooms, your Majesty?" She began leading him out of the ball room as she said this, turning down the hall towards the royal apartments. "I think you should change into something ... more comfortable, yes?" she looked up just as he reached to run a finger along the edge of his collar as if it was too tight.

"Leli -"

"No," she told him firmly, "do not argue with me. You will get comfortable, you will take care of yourself. We will do the legwork for you, helping as we can, enlisting aid from others who can as well. Despite all that has happened," she added, glancing up at him, "you have the country to run, no? The best way that you can help her now is to do what needs to be done. Keep everything ... normal. Not only does this help  _you_  but it shows the enemy that you have not been defeated."

Alistair finally smiled. "There are times, Leliana, when the way that you think ..."

The Teyrna of Highever giggled then. "So you have told me upon occasion," she returned.

They walked in silence for a time until they arrived at the door to his rooms. There, Leliana kissed his cheek and told him, "Go inside. Take a bath. Change your clothes. Eat a meal. Read a book even. But over all you must let us be the ones to help you, just as you must remain focused on being king."

Alistair gave her a quick hug. "Thank you, Leliana," he told her.

"One of us will check in with you later. Have faith, Alistair," she added, seeking out his eyes with her own. "Remember, it is times like these that the Maker will be beside you to support you. You know this, I think."

He nodded. "I will keep it in mind," he promised. She turned to leave then, and as he turned into his apartments, he noticed that the guard at his door had been doubled. Which meant that the guard shifts out on patrol around the palace grounds would have been too by now.  _I should have thought to have that done before the wedding,_  Alistair thought to himself as he entered the dimly lit room. There was a fire in the hearth providing both warmth and light, and he found that there were several lamps lit. He also found a bottle of wine, a pair of goblets and a tray of fruits and cheese laying out on a table nearby. Obviously, someone had prepared his rooms for his wedding night.

While struggling to keep Leliana's admonitions in mind, Alistair avoided the wine and moved to the fruit and cheese tray, slicing several pieces of cheese before turning to head towards the bedroom. When he entered, it was still dark, but the curtains had been opened and there were a few rays from a setting sun shining inside. Striding across the room, Alistair opened the doors to the balcony and stepped outside. Sure enough, he noticed the increased security in place below him, including one (who was apparently in charge) who called up, "Your Majesty? Would you please return inside until we can guarantee that the potential for attack has passed?" With a grunt of frustration, Alistair turned on his heel and did as he was asked. He returned to the sitting room, grabbed the food tray and set it upon his lap as he sat down in front of the fire. It was going to be a long night ...

* * *

Early the next morning, Alistair found that he could simply not stand the sitting around and waiting. He dressed in his normal riding gear, though that was not his intention today, and as he departed his rooms, informed the guards of his destination. When they began to argue, he told them firmly, "You can accompany me, or you can remain here, but I am going to the stables."

Turning, Alistair started down the hall, moving at a fairly quick pace throughout the palace. He felt surprisingly better this morning, having made his decision, though he knew that the lead weight feel to his heart would remain until Alfstanna returned, whole and sound, beside him.

The journey did not take long, and the guards (much to Alistair's own amusement) appeared to have trouble keeping up with him. When he moved to enter the stables, one of the guards finally caught up and stepped in front of him saying through gasping breaths, "Your Majesty, let us secure the building first."

Alistair nodded in reluctant agreement and remained outside with one guard while the remaining five (the king smirked as he realized they lost one along the way) secured the perimeter for him. When they returned, Alistair instructed the men to remain outdoors. "As I told you before, I will not be riding, but I do not want to be disturbed unless it is Arl Teagan, Arlessa Lysette, or the Teyrn or Teyrna of Highever. Understood?" He saw them nod and then turned indoors.

After the bright light from the barely risen sun, it took Alistair a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the interior of the stables. He paused just inside, and blinked a few times, willing his eyes to adjust at a faster pace.

"Your Majesty, is there something I can assist you with?"

Alistair turned to face the stable master. "Ah, Master Neely," he greeted her, his eyes finally able to discern her shape from the shadows. "I had thought to come down and ... visit, I suppose, with Piceron for a few moments. Would that be possible?"

He saw the woman nod and smile, gesturing him down the corridor of stalls until they reached the right one. As he moved to lean against the stall door and watch the animal, Neely placed something cool in his hand. "Give him this. I was about to bring all of them a treat."

Alistair frowned and glanced down. "Carrots?"

She grinned. "They love them, trust me. Now you feed him, and I will take care of the others, yes?"

Alistair chuckled. "I suppose I can manage that," he returned.

He turned towards the stall, reaching over the door with one of the treats and watched as Piceron moved around inside. The space was not huge, per se, but it was large enough to give him enough space to shift and turn and within moments his soft nose and mobile lips were searching out the snack. Alistair reached out with his now empty hand and scratched Piceron along his nose, the top of his head and behind the ears as he could, all the while murmuring, "Now I suppose, Piceron, that you are wondering why I have come down here to see you. Well, the fact of the matter is, you see, your mistress has gone missing ... and I have no idea who has taken her ... or why ..."

Over the next short while, Alistair continued to feed the animal the remaining three carrots periodically while telling him the story of all that had happened over the past day. He was able to release his anxiety, his fear, and even the anger at what had happened as he did so. Speaking with the horse in such an open and honest way, Alistair was surprised to find how therapeutic it was. When the king finally ran out of treats, and Piceron continued to nudge his hand for more, Alistair could not refrain from a soft chuckle. "Well, boy, I may not have any more carrots for you right now, but I do promise that, whatever it takes, I will bring her back, and then you can demand whatever treat you want, and I am certain she will be obliging."

Softly, from behind him, Alistair heard Neely say, "You have a way with him, your Majesty, just like she does."

Alistair turned so that he could look at both horse and stable master. "Oh, I doubt that," he replied. Then on a more serious note, "I assume you heard?" He watched her nod. With a heavy sigh, he said, "I do not know how long it will take before we find her -"

"But you  _will_  find her," she said firmly.

Alistair nodded. "We will find her, yes. Until that time, I must ask you to take special care of Pic for me, for  _her_." Alistair reached out to scratch the horse's nose one last time. "We cannot let him go into a decline simply because she is temporarily ... delayed."

Alistair saw the woman give him a hard, firm look as she responded, "No, we can't. He must keep going, moving forward, pressing on. That way, when she does return, things will have been running smoothly enough for her to step right back in as if nothing happened in the first place ... which, I suspect, is what she would prefer."

Alistair smiled at her, one of his true, trademark lopsided grins. She knew both him and the animal well it seemed. "Yes, I have no doubt that will be the case." Then, straightening, he stepped towards her and said, "It is possible, though I do not know how soon, that her brother, Bann Irminric might wander down here." He saw her nod. "You know him?" Again she nodded. "Should he wish to ride Piceron, for I know that my wife introduced them when we were at Stormgard, please let him know he has leave to do so."

"Is he recovered then?"

Alistair shook his head. "No, and I am afraid that what ails him now may be more psychological than physical, but I thought you should know ... just in case."

He watched her smile and nod. "Duly noted, your Majesty."

Alistair began walking towards the exit then, the stable master right beside him. "Thank you, Master Neely, for ... indulging me."

She stepped aside as he opened the door and replied, "You are welcome any time, your Majesty, whether it is simply to visit with the animals or to ride."

Alistair turned towards the guards then and nodded. "Right then. Time to find Arl Teagan and his wife to see what is on the agenda today." As he led the way, the guards fell in around him. The king had no idea if they could tell or not, but his visit to the stables had helped to bring his focus back so that he could, as Neely had said, "keep going, moving forward, pressing on."


	11. Chapter 11

They commandeered one of the small offices in the palace to use as their base of operations for their investigation. When she walked into the room that morning, her husband at her side, she was prepared for battle - quite literally. After the end of the Blight, when she had run off on her own, Lysette had left behind in Denerim the drakeskin armor that Wade had made for her. Despite being the best armor she had ever owned, she had known it would not fit her in the months that followed and did not want to be weighted down by excess baggage, so she had left it behind. At one point after her return, Alistair had informed her that he had saved the armor for her, keeping it locked up safe in the royal armory for when she might wish to claim it. This was what she wore now, in all its splendor, signifying that she was taking command once more.

Upon entering the room, Lysette found many present whom she had expected, and a few who she had not. Fergus, Leliana, Givens and Nathaniel Howe were all seated at the small conference table to the left of the room. Additional guards, most of whom Lysette presumed were on the queen's detail, were standing against the wall. She watched Teagan move to take a seat at one end of the table while she moved to the other. As she did, she noticed two women standing nearby: Alfstanna's personal secretary, the Lady Violette, and her personal maid, Clare.

Lysette took her seat and gestured for the two women to follow suit. "Right then," Lysette said by way of introduction, "as the king has asked us to open the formal investigation into the queen's disappearance, I thought we should break it down to its most basic components: a field investigation which I will coordinate, and one that is focused here at court, led by Arl Teagan." There were general murmurs of agreement from around the table at this announcement.

The Teyrn of Highever was the first to break the silence that followed. "Who will you be taking with you?"

Lysette sighed softly. "Obviously, I have the men at Redcliffe available to assist," she began, "and I will be taking a small contingent of palace guards as well - those who are assigned to protecting the queen. I don't want to remove any more than necessary from the current protective detail, however."

Fergus nodded slowly, the fingers and thumb of his left hand rubbing his chin as he thought. "I can offer you some of Highever's troops as well, Lys," he finally added. "I have a couple of excellent trackers who have recently joined who might be of assistance."

Lysette nodded her thanks at her brother. "Nathaniel and Anders will be our Grey Warden representatives," she continued. "With the troops you have offered and those we will have on hand, I believe that is a good start."

In the silence that followed, a quiet voice spoke up and announced, "My lady? I would like to offer my services." As the others in the room turned, Clare sat forward and added, "The queen and I are close; she and I have worked together long enough that I can recognize clues she might leave behind that others would not."

Lysette looked over at the two women employed by Alfstanna who sat beside each other. It was on the tip of her tongue to deny the request when Leliana spoke up and said, "I have worked with Clare myself, Lys, and she is quite skilled." The bard turned towards her sister-in-law and added, "It would be almost like having Zevran around ... but without his honeyed tongue."

Lysette's eyes widened at the implication. If what Leliana was suggesting was true, the young woman would be an excellent addition to the group. "I will be very glad of your assistance," Lysette told the woman.

Turning back to the group, Lysette continued, "Right then. Teagan will remain here in Denerim to run the investigation from this end."  _And to provide Alistair emotional support_ , she did not say aloud. "Ser Perth and Ser Dunstan will remain as well from the Redcliffe contingent to assist. Also, Givens will be coordinating with you," she looked directly at her husband, "in setting up interviews with the guests from the wedding as well as keeping Alistair informed."

Teagan nodded. "I'd half thought of bringing Alistair into the sessions with me," he admitted quietly. "He has become quite good at reading people. If he can manage to set aside his personal feelings and detach himself, he would be quite an asset."

Lysette nodded. She glanced over at Violette. "Would you be willing to assist them as well?" she queried.

Violette nodded. "Absolutely," she replied immediately. Reaching out, she placed two documents in the center of the table, pushing one towards Lysette and the other towards Teagan. "These are complete guest lists for both the wedding itself and the reception," she explained. "I have also made notations as to potential enemies and their most likely motive." Glancing around the table, she added, "I hope you do not mind that, based on how the events from yesterday played out, I made my judgments on the assumption that my lady was kidnapped and not murdered."

Lysette nodded as she scanned the list. "This is very valuable indeed," she told Violette, obviously impressed, "and leads us to the next topic of discussion: who is behind this and why?"

They spent the remainder of the morning discussing possibilities, but given the early nature of the investigation, their efforts did not bear much fruit. When the conference finally broke up some few hours later, Lysette collapsed back into her chair, a hand lifting to pinch the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off a burgeoning headache.

"Hang in there, Lys," Fergus told her quietly as he moved to sit closer to his sister. "We will make it through this. We will find her and the ones who did this."

Lysette looked over at him and smiled tiredly. "I certainly hope so," she murmured in response. Then, "Brother, I need to ask a favor of you."

Fergus nodded without question. "Name it and it is yours," he told her sincerely.

Smiling, Lysette reached out and squeezed his forearm. "I know that you and Leli will be heading back to Highever soon," she saw him nod. "Can I ask you to take Branwyn with you? Teagan and I will both be so busy, and -"

Fergus began to chuckle softly, a smile spreading across his face. "I do believe my wife was going to ask you that very thing this morning," he told her. Giving his sister a quick hug as they both rose, he added, "Of course we will take her for you. I was also going to suggest that, as we will be closer to Stormgard out there, we might think about making an arrangement for the day-to-day operations of the Bann. With Irminric ailing again and Alfstanna missing ..."

Lysette nodded. "Good idea," she replied. "Speak with Violette before you leave. It seems that Alfstanna placed a great deal of trust in both these women, for obvious reasons. If anyone might be able to tell you who to contact or who might be a good replacement, Violette would."

After Fergus and Leliana left the room shortly thereafter, Lysette spoke with those who remained. She made arrangements with Nathaniel and Anders on when they would depart; she spoke again with Clare, requesting that the young woman accompany the Wardens on their journey, and she spoke with Givens briefly about the guards who would be accompanying them. Finally, after what seemed like hours later, Lysette turned to find her husband waiting for her near the door to the office that would temporarily become his. As she approached and they departed together, she leaned heavily against his shoulder while they walked out of the palace and across the city towards their estate. "Fergus and Leli are going to take Branwyn with them," she announced in a soft voice.

Teagan nodded. He would miss having his two "girls" (as he would often tease his wife) with him, but it would be better, easier and safer if their daughter stayed at Highever with family who could pay her the attention that she deserved. "When will you be leaving?" he asked reluctantly.

Lysette sighed, savoring the feel of his arm around her. "Tomorrow. I will send the soldiers down to Redcliffe - we will stage from there, I think. Before I head that direction myself, I will return to Amaranthine with Nate and Anders. I will need to bring the rest of the Wardens up to speed as well in case they should hear or notice anything of import, then the three of us plus Clare will head to Redcliffe." She glanced up and saw his questioning look. "I know Alf placed her trust in her, but I want to spend some time with her, see if I can determine how best to use her skills. We should be in Redcliffe no later than two weeks, I think."

They entered the Market District together, Teagan's arm sliding from her shoulders to her waist and pulling her closer to him. "I will update Alistair this afternoon," he told her quietly. They both surveyed the area around them as they walked, noting as they passed the abnormal subdued state that the district was under at the moment. Word had obviously gotten around, people were now shifting from the state of enormous joy and happiness for the royal couple on their wedding day to one of disbelief and almost mourning.

"I think your idea of bringing him into the investigation is a sound one, and will give him something to focus on that will help him to fee as if he is a part of it, as if what he is doing will actually help in finding her," she replied. As they entered the estate, she added, "Alistair has a quick mind, as you well know. I think his involvement in the investigation will help him on many levels." Then with a sigh she added, "Shall we go spend some time with our daughter before we are parted? I feel the need for tiny hugs and carefree laughter before this journey starts. I have a suspicion that it might be a while before we are all together again." Teagan smiled in understanding and nodded, leading her inside and towards the nursery.

* * *

_Dearest Husband,_

_As you read this, I am on my way north with Nathaniel, Anders and Clare. We will not tarry overlong in Amaranthine, but the others must be made aware should they encounter anything that might be of assistance._

_I cannot tell you why in detail, for I have yet to explain it fully to my own satisfaction as yet, but I urge you to be very careful. I know that you are well aware of the precarious nature of court intrigues, but something is screaming at me that this incident extends well beyond Denerim or Ferelden even._

_Be careful and safe, my love. I wish you the best of luck. Should you need to reach me more quickly than by rider or messenger, remember to look to the skies for I shall do the same._

_Faithfully, Lys_

 

* * *

 

_My Dearest Friend and Brother ,_

_Have courage, Alistair! You know as do I that your wife is a fighter of no small repute. Between our efforts and her own she will be returned to us. We both know that it would take a great deal to keep her from those she loves best._

_Keep faith, my friend, and we will be victorious. Remember that you have a duty that extends beyond the simple bonds of marriage, friendship and kingship: your duty to your wife is being fulfilled by our investigation; your duty to your friends is being fulfilled in allowing us to assist you in your time of need; but it is perhaps your duty to your people that you should keep most at heart for they will give you support in many ways that you might not imagine as you continue to rule._

_I beg you, Alistair, keep your focus. This I know you are capable of, for I have seen it first hand. You know as well as I that Alfstanna would want you to be king first, husband second. Assist Teagan, participate if you feel you must, but remember always that you must continue to lead. The people behind this are counting on you to be distracted, to fall apart, to hand over the rule of Ferelden to someone else. Do not give them what they want._

_Remember always that I am your friend, your Sister and your faithful servant._

_Lysette_

 

* * *

 

_Dearest Mother,_

_I hope that this letter finds you, Rory and Myra well. By now I am certain you will have heard of what befell Alfstanna upon her wedding day. As Alistair has requested mine and Teagan's assistance in finding her, we have sent Branwyn to Highever to remain with Fergus and Leliana for the duration. If you have a wish to see your granddaughter (and perhaps turn her into the lady that I was not so inclined to become) you might consider relocating to Highever for the duration._

_Fergus and I both spoke with Alfstanna's secretary, the lady Violette, regarding the placement of someone to assist Stormgard and therefore Waking Sea, until Irminric has sufficiently recovered to do so. It was her decision that the request be put forth to Rory if he might be so inclined to assist in their time of need._

_Teagan will remain in Denerim to lead the investigation at court and to provide Alistair what support he can. I shall be in charge of field operations, basing myself out of Redcliffe. Should you need to reach either of us, begin there._

_My love and best to you all._

_Lys_


	12. Chapter 12

The ride to Vigil's Keep took two days. The ride to Redcliffe would take another nine or ten days, depending on how hard they rode. Lysette figured they would spend at least a day or two at the keep, informing the others, discussing potential assistance from their end of things, Nathaniel and Anders preparing for an extended leave of absence. Lysette groaned silently to herself within the first hour.  _Andraste's knicker weasels, I'd forgotten about Anders' whining, and Nathaniel's brooding silence. Maker help me through this!_

Upon their arrival, Nathaniel wasted no time calling the Ferelden Wardens together. He yielded the floor to Lysette who briefly ran through the important points as to what had occurred. "The most important thing is that our focus will be on the fact that she is alive. We have no reason to believe she was killed, so we must push forward as if it is true." She looked around the room and saw several heads nodding in agreement. Relinquishing the floor back to Nathaniel after that, Lysette watched as he appointed Sigrun temporary acting Warden Commander (no great surprise there as she was his second anyway) and made suggestions for scouting patrols in his absence. When the meeting concluded, Nathaniel conveyed his desire to be on the road again by morning, to which Lysette agreed.

After a hearty meal and good conversation renewing old friendships and making new ones, Lysette rose and left the room. It had been a year and a half or so since she had given up being Warden Commander in favor of being the Arlessa of Redcliffe, and she was finding her return to be a bit nostalgic. She wandered out into the courtyard, walking up the path between the keep's dungeons and basement and following the battlements around until she found herself looking out over the lower courtyard below. She stood there gazing out at the night sky, her thoughts drifting to years past when she heard a hesitant voice call, "My lady?"

Turning, Lysette found Clare standing nearby. Gesturing the woman over, Lysette smiled and asked, "Is there something you needed?"

Clare moved forward slowly, near the wall to the battlements. She looked out over the edge quickly, scanning the area immediately below them, the courtyard, the walls beyond. Taking in the surroundings around them, evaluating conditions, identifying potential problems and escape routes as necessary.

Lysette watched the woman's eyes closely.  _I've seen eyes like that before,_  she thought.  _Zevran ... and Leliana ... both were constantly aware of our surroundings, ready for anything._  Straightening and moving forward to stand beside her, Lysette waited for Clare to speak.

"My lady, I -"

"Please," Lysette interrupted quickly, hoping to break habits before they were formed, "call me Lys, or Lysette if you must, but while we are out on this mission, do not refer to me as 'my lady.' We are all equals in this."

Clearly startled, Clare simply nodded before swallowing hard past the surprise that had hardened in her throat. "Yes, well, ... Lys, I was hoping that we might speak about what you would expect of me ... as this mission unfolds."

Lysette smiled warmly. "I am glad you brought this up," she replied. "I was thinking of waiting until tomorrow, but now will be fine." Turning back to face the night sky, Lysette rested her arms upon the walls of the battlements. "I know that you and Alfstanna are close, that you have worked together for years now. I know Leliana spoke well of you from the time you worked together when you both discovered that my mother yet lived," she saw Clare nod at this, recalling the incident, "and I can see certain ... similarities in some skills and habits that you and some of my friends share, certain 'necessities of the trade,' if you will?"

Clare nodded, understanding the implied question. "Yes," she replied quietly. "In the distant past I utilized certain ... skills in order to survive. At one time I used them in return for coin, in order that I might survive. However, ever since the day that lady Alfstanna hired me on to her staff, I have been dedicated only to her service ..."

Lys lifted her hand to stop the girl's words. "I am not questioning your loyalty," she assured her. "I am merely making observations, drawing conclusions, learning about you so that I know best how to utilize your skills. But," she added with a smile as she turned back to face Clare, "the details can wait until we are on the road, yes?" Clare smiled in return and nodded. "Go and get some rest then," Lysette advised. At Clare's questioning look, Lysette replied, "Trust me, this is not my motherly instincts kicking in, it is self-preservation. When traveling with Anders, it is best to have as much rest as possible as he is not one to appreciate the less than stellar points of traveling long distances..." Lysette was rewarded with Clare's giggles as she walked back towards the keep.

Sighing in amusement herself, Lysette took a seat nearby, planning to sit and enjoy the changing night sky for a short while before turning in herself. It was in this position, looking at the constellations and imagining the times that she and Teagan had stood upon the battlements of Redcliffe castle and done the same, that Nathaniel found her a short time later.

"So, shall I fall back into habit and refer to you as Warden Commander then?" his deep, raspy voice queried as he approached.

Lysette stirred slowly, gently urging her muscles to relax and loosen so that she could rise to her feet. When Nathaniel offered her his hand, she took it, feeling the callouses of his fingers scraping over her hands. With a gentle smile, she looked up at him. "I would think that you would know me well enough now to understand that I have no intention of ever coming back to this," she replied.

"People, particularly women I have discovered, have been known to change their minds."

Lysette snorted at that. Looking up at him, she grinned. "Why, Commander, I think that was a rather sexist declaration, don't you?" she teased. She saw him blush slightly. Patting his arm, she apologized, "I am sorry, Nate, but you -" He lifted a hand, begging silence and she acquiesced.

"Do you have any idea where we are to start looking?" he asked. They both moved to stand at the wall, gazing out below them.

Lysette shook her head. "I am hoping that by the time we get to Redcliffe there will be some suggestion," she told him.

Nathaniel frowned. "Why not stop in Denerim on our way South?"

"Teagan will not have had time enough to begin sorting through any interviews that have been done," she explained. "It should take us ten days perhaps to make it to Redcliffe. By that point, I hope he will have a few ideas to direct us. Don't worry, Nathaniel," she added when she saw the look of confusion on his face, "we have several routes of communication open to us. Some are faster than others, but all are secure."

They stood for a time, sharing and discussing their own interpretation of events that had unfolded, sorting in their own minds what each had seen, heard, understood to be fact. "My concern," he told her after a long while, "stems from their use of so many mages in the attack."

Lysette sighed. "Yes," she agreed reluctantly, "that caught my attention as well. And they were offensive mages," she added. "We should ask Anders his thoughts on this."

Nathaniel chuckled in wry amusement. "I have no doubt he'll say, 'That is what happens when one lets the Chantry cage all the mages in one place,'" he replied in an amusing, if not completely accurate, imitation of their fellow Warden. "Or something like that, at any rate."

Lysette could not refrain from giggling. It had been a standing joke amongst the Wardens when she had been Commander to try and imitate the apostate's particular timbre, cadence and mannerisms in his speech. Thankfully, Anders had found as much enjoyment with the antics as everyone else had. "Not bad," she acknowledged with a grin. Then straightening, she said, "Well, we won't get it all sorted out tonight. We can bring it up to Anders while we are on the road and see what he thinks." Then with a smile and a nod of her head, she murmured, "Good night, Commander," and returned indoors.

* * *

They rode from dawn to dusk, stopping to rest their animals as necessary. Though their route was more direct than the Imperial Highway, they passed occasional travelers, merchants and even ran into one group of bandits, but nothing that might have given them an advantage in their search. As they traveled, they would line up in pairs, switching out throughout the day so that Clare could get to know the men and feel comfortable with them. Lysette was still trying to work out in her mind how she was going to sort things, but she suspected that Nathaniel, Anders and Clare might make a good team and she wanted to be sure the chemistry between them was right first.

"So," Lys said conversationally one afternoon as they rode closer to Lothering where they would turn west towards Lake Calenhad, "tell me about how you came into Alfstanna's service. I don't believe you were working for her yet the last time I was at Stormgard, were you?"

Clare nodded. "Yes, though I was in the background. My lady hired me on as her personal maid almost six years ago now, though I had been there longer," she explained quietly, her voice filled with warmth at the memory. "My father was a merchant in the village of Stormgard. When I was nine, he passed leaving my mother and I in a bind. My mother approached Bann Reginald, my lady's father, to see about employment upon the estate, and he hired her on as assistant housekeeper. The Bann also offered to allow me to be educated along with his children in studies and weapons training."

Lysette nodded in understanding. That wasn't anything particularly unusual to her; her parents had done the same to the children of their knights and would-be squires who entered the household as well.

"However, my mother passed a few years after ... I was fourteen at the time I think? Bann Reginald told me that he would be glad to keep me on - I could continue studying to become one of his soldiers, or I become a maid or companion to his daughter, or, if I so chose, I could leave Stormgard and move on with my life. He left the choice entirely up to me." She turned in her saddle to face Lysette. "I chose to stay for two reasons. The first was personal: I had met a soldier there and we were becoming good friends. He was responsible for helping me through the worst part of the loss of my mother."

Clare took a deep breath and turned to face forward. Though her eyes were ahead of her, she was not focused on the road, but the past. "Colin was a good man," she whispered tightly.

Lysette sensed that something ill-toward must have happened to the man in question, but she did not press. Clare would tell her or she wouldn't. Either way, Lysette would allow the woman to make her own choices.

Swallowing hard, Clare continued, "The second reason I stayed was ... well, it was personal and it was business." She frowned. "A friend of the Bann's came to visit from Antiva, and had brought personal body guards with him. One of them was trained as an assassin," she chanced a glance at Lysette and saw the woman nodding, "and after our initial meeting, and subsequent discussions, he offered to teach me what he knew - as I was already training as a rogue - in the time that they were at Stormgard. I jumped at the opportunity, for Bann Reginald had no one in his employ who had knowledge of such techniques." Clare blushed slightly and added, "I suppose in my own way I was thinking of it as job security."

Lysette smiled. "Nothing wrong with that," she replied. "Actually, I would have thought it would show great initiative on your part."

"I don't doubt that the Bann would have thought so. His guest remained the better part of a year, and I was able to learn quite a lot during that time - fighting techniques, poisons, traps; all of it. We kept our lessons secret, for I didn't want to disappoint Bann Reginald should I not succeed, you see. After their departure, I continued training in the style I had been taught. Before I could inform the Bann, however, he passed away - a victim of some wasting disease - and my lady became Bann. She came to me then and asked if I would like to become her personal maid and join her staff."

Clare slowed her horse and she turned to face Lysette again. "Please understand, it was not my typical nature to be cold, calculating, sneaky ... that came as a by-product of the training I received. My first thought, however, was that my skills might come in handy should Bann Alfstanna come close to danger."

"So, she did not know of your skills until after you joined her staff?"

Clare shook her head. "I did not offer her my services as such until the Blight." Again, Clare paused, her thoughts becoming slightly troubled by her memories. "Colin had become a personal body guard to Bann Alfstanna. He, several others and the Bann were returning to Stormgard, just after Loghain called the Landsmeet after Ostagar. They went first, the remainder of the household followed several days later. Two days out from Stormgard, the Bann and her guard were attacked, most of them killed, including Colin."

Lysette decided, given the nature of the conversation and the increasingly distraught look upon her companion's face, to stop and allow the horses a chance to drink and rest. They led their animals to the nearby pond, and as Nathaniel and Anders walked to the right, Lysette gestured towards the left. When they were sufficiently separated from the men, Lysette asked, "Was Colin your husband?"

Clare looked up at Lysette and shook her head. "We were engaged, though," she replied. "It was after his death, once we were all back at Stormgard, after his pyre and our goodbyes had been said, that I informed Bann Alfstanna of my particular skills." Clare smiled softly at the memory. "I think I surprised her."

Lysette smiled too. "I will offer you my congratulations, then," she said, "for you should know as well as I do that surprising her is a very difficult thing to do!"

Clare nodded. "And, to be completely honest, she was very judicious in what she would ask of me as well. We had long discussions regarding my skills - what I could do, the extent of my knowledge - and though she knew she had a weapon available for her own personal use, for all that she has not often ask me for my services."

Lysette nodded. "I think your term, 'judicious,' is the perfect one to describe her," she said. "I also think that is why she will make a good queen for Alistair. Alfstanna is smart and even-handed, not prone to snap judgments." With a sigh, Lysette stretched her stiff muscles from spending so much time in the saddle. "Another day or so of travel and we will be at Redcliffe," she announced. "I will then be putting together the search teams, based on what information we have waiting for us. Do you feel comfortable enough around Nathaniel and Anders to be paired up with them?"

Clare lifted her head, staring across the pond at the men. "The Commander is easy enough to get along with, I suppose," she said softly, watching as he lifted his head to catch her gaze almost as if he had heard her say his name. Nodding respectfully, Clare turned back towards Lysette. "Anders ..."

Lysette grinned. "Trust me, his skills as a healer and a battlemage are worth having him along."

Clare nodded again. "It shall be as you say then."

The two women began walking their animals back towards the men as Lysette said, "Good. Let's be on our way then. With any luck, and even guidance from the Maker, we will have some leads waiting for us at Redcliffe."

They arrived at Redcliffe the next evening, exactly two weeks from their departure from Denerim. As Lysette had hoped, there were several missives awaiting her: three from her husband, one from Alistair, two from Fergus (including one informing his sister that Branwyn appeared to have some of the same attributes that her mother had shown as a child), and one from her mother. After the road weary travelers had bathed and changed, they met in Lysette's study to organize the search.

"Rory Gilmore and his wife, Myra, have gone to Stormgard to assist the sensechal there with the running of the Bann until Alfstanna's brother is sufficiently recovered to do so," she began from her position behind her desk. "Rory says he will do what he can from that end to see if there is any information to pass along to us as well. Both he and Fergus will run search operations in that area." Lysette set her mother's message aside and lifted the second one her brother had sent. "Fergus has sent us fifty troops, including four trackers, to assist. They should arrive in the next few days."

Lysette then reached for the three messages from her husband. With a sigh, she passed them around so that the others could see them, in case they could pick up on something she could not. When they were finished, the missives set aside, Lysette sat forward on her chair, her arms resting upon her desktop. "Thoughts?"

There was silence for a few moments in which the others were formulating what they wanted to say. Surprisingly to Lysette, it was Clare who spoke up first. "My lady -" She blushed when she caught Lysette's hard stare. "My apologies - Lys. It looks to me as if this is a classic 'smoke & mirrors' type of ploy."

Anders frowned. "What do you mean by 'smoke & mirrors?'" he asked.

Clare explained. "When someone wants to ... mislead some one or a group of people away from what is really happening, they create multiple distractions to lead them away from the truth."

Nathaniel frowned, lifting one of the letters again. "And you think that these," he gestured with the document, "are the distraction?"

Clare nodded. "I am not saying that they should not be explored," she added, "but I would not be surprised if they do not provide any additional leads. Think about it," she added, lifting her hands so that she could tick off the topics as she skimmed through them, "what are the chances that the city elves were involved? Yes, Bann Shianni was there, but she and the queen are very close friends and have been since Shianni was given the Bann two years ago." Clare glanced at Lysette and saw her nod to continue. "Chancellor Eamon is also another unlikely possibility, despite his connections with the Tower, though of the three I would suspect that his potential motives are the most likely. And third, the Antivans in Ferelden? What possible reason would they have that is logical?" Sitting back in her chair, Clare finished, "I believe that these are meant to distract people from the real reason. Our adversaries are very clever, trying to use an emotional blackmail of sorts to instigate a tremendous public outcry to keep them from finding their way to the actual truth. If we are not careful, there will be riots, lynchings and other sources of public rage aimed at these groups of people ... and that is exactly what they want."

Lysette looked at Anders and then Nathaniel. Lifting her brow at the latter, he nodded and reluctantly agreed, "I hate to say it, but I suspect Clare has the right of things. There is something more than a mere kidnapping at play here."

"So," Anders replied, "what do we do? Do we follow up on these leads, or do we ignore them?"

Lysette sat back and said, "We investigate them. The other thing about this technique is that quite often there are small pieces of truth within them." She looked at each one of them. "It will be up to us to find that truth and piece the puzzle together." Rising, she watched the others do the same. "In the morning, we will gather together all the troops and designate groups and assignments. The sooner we begin, the sooner we will find her."


	13. Chapter 13

In that brief moment between unconsciousness and completely regaining awareness of her surroundings, Alfstanna recalled her father's instructions from so many years before ...

_If ever you get into a position where you are captured, held against your will, your main objective is to escape. To that end, you must do what you can: fight, hide, fake your way out of captivity. Do whatever it takes, daughter ..._

As she recalled this instruction, she managed to keep her breathing even as the last vestiges of forced slumber wore off. She knew she would not have long, but she was determined to make it count.  _Whatever it takes ..._

Carefully, slowly, she opened her eyes to mere slits as she continued to focus on her breathing as she began scanning her surroundings. The first thing she noticed, aside from the fact that she was not physically bound, was the residual energy left behind by the use of magic.  _Mages_ , she recalled as snippets of the attack flooded her memory.  _There were mages ... and ...?_  She felt the first tendrils of frustration taking over and refocused her thoughts to push them away.  _Calm, ... peace, ... relaxed ... must stay relaxed ..._

She brought her thoughts back to the techniques Irminric had taught her, that Alistair had only just begun reinforcing ... to focus her attention inwards, on doing what needed to be done. As she did so, she felt her breathing regulating once more.  _Must stay calm._  Moving her attentions outward once more, she took in her surroundings. She was alone, of that she was sure ... for the moment. Assessing her person, she found that she was still in her wedding dress, though it looked rumpled, worn and stained.  _Not surprising given the recent events it's been through_. Next, she wiggled her feet. With a ghost of a smile, she thanked her inner instinct that had sent Clare on the mission to find her cobbler so that she could have the black leather boots to go with her dress.  _Maker you were guiding my hand and thoughts that day!_  She began surveying the room around her: dark, quiet, ... damp. She frowned slightly. It was almost too damp, the cloying nature of the humidity settling upon her like an extra weight ...

"Thought you could trick me, did you?" a deep, heavily accented male voice asked suddenly from her far right. Before she could recover from her surprise, Alfstanna's eyes were closing as the sleep spell enveloped her once more into its snaky tendrils ...

* * *

The next time when she awoke, again realization hitting her before she opened her eyes, she could hear harshly whispered voices across the room.

"We can't keep doing this!" the voice argued. "It can cause permanent damage -"

"The bitch will be fine," the second voice, the one who had menaced her before putting her to sleep the last time.

"Do  _you_  want to be responsible for injuring the Queen of Ferelden so badly that -"

With a disgusted grunt, the second man shoved past the first, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him. Alfstanna began her meditations again, focusing her thoughts inward, towards her breathing, trying to maintain the impression that she was asleep while silently gathering what little energy she had learned to control from her brother's instruction.  _A little bit closer,_  she thought.  _If you start to try anything, I can counteract it ... once, maybe ... certainly not more than that ..._

"I know you are awake," the voice finally whispered near her ear.

Startled, Alfstanna could not keep her eyes from popping open. Searching the darkness, she found a pair of eyes focused in on her. She cringed out of instinct, out of fear because of what had happened at and since the wedding ...  _What have you done to me?_

"I will not hurt you," the man promised, kneeling beside her. He lifted his hands and set them in plain sight upon the bed where she could see them. "This ... this is not right," he assured her. "It was not supposed to be like this. These were not the instructions we were given ..."

Alfstanna frowned, saying nothing just yet, simply watching him. Finally, she asked, "How long?" When he frowned in confusion, her gaze hardened as did her words. "How long has it been since I was taken?"

"Three weeks," he whispered.

"Three -!" she gasped. "What has been done to me? I remember none of it."

The mage swallowed. "You have mostly been under repeated applications of a sleep spell," he told her. "In itself, not harmful just incapacitating." He saw she was going to ask more and continued, "At other times, when we needed you awake but not remembering, that is where my ... partner came in. He used a disorientation spell to keep you confused but malleable, and he added something else ... a spell I am not aware of nor do I ever want to know, to make you forget..."

Alfstanna felt a wave of pure horror wash through her at that news. Immediately, her thoughts trailed off towards ... "What have you done to me?" she growled, voicing her thoughts from earlier.

He lifted his gaze to hers then and told her, "I promise you, nothing other than simply keeping you unconscious, unaware of what was going on around you. I have been with you most of the time, my lady. The few times I was not, I was only gone for short amounts of time." He continued to hold her gaze. "My lady, I promise you - I did not let him touch you except to perform the spells!"

He reached out to touch her arm, and Alfstanna pulled back away from him automatically. With a heavy sigh, he murmured, "I will help you escape, but you must flee far from here ... promise?" He waited for her nod. "When you go through that door," he gestured to the one behind him, "you can either go up the stairs to your right, or further down the hall. Go up the stairs, quietly, and you should be able to get out the door at the top. The building is empty but for the rooms down here."

"And the man who just left?" Alfstanna managed, trying desperately to clamp down on the rising tide of emotions that wanted to break free. At the moment, it was the fear that was trying to escape: fear of the unknown. _What did they do to me? Where am I? How do I get to safety?_  As she spoke, she realized that she had been unconscious for quite a long while because her voice was cracked and her throat very dry.

"He has gone to rest ... in one of the far rooms. He will not be an issue as long as you are quiet."

"Weapons?"

The mage pulled a small knife from his waist scabbard. It wasn't much, something one might use to eat with, or cut plants or bread, but it was better than nothing. Looking deeply into her eyes, he whispered, "Take it, use it as necessary, may the Maker guide your steps ..." With a heavy sigh, he added, "I know it isn't worth much, but I am truly sorry for this. This plan should never have been moved forward ..."

Alfstanna asked softly, "Who?"

He shook his head. "I can't," he pleaded, obvious fear in his eyes and voice. "I am taking too many chances as it is." He handed her the knife and helped her to her feet. When she wobbled a little, he allowed a small bit of healing energy to escape his hands into the back of her head at the base of her neck where he was helping her balance. "Go," he whispered urgently, "and before you leave ... incapacitate me ... it will make it more believable later ..."

Alfstanna, still slightly bewildered at the turn of events, nodded. When she felt her equilibrium had returned sufficiently she turned and used the butt end of the knife against his skull to knock him out, catching him gently as he fell. Kneeling beside him, she whispered, "Though your actions were abhorrent, you have my thanks for setting me free," before rising and moving towards the door. She scanned the room quickly, but as it was so dark, she couldn't really see anything of worth to take. Quietly, she reached for the door handle and slowly opened the barrier ...

It was dark in the hall as well, she noted, which worked to her advantage. Keeping to the shadows, as that was where her training lay, she made her way up the steps. When she reached the top, she stood for a long moment, her ear to the door, hoping to verify the mage's words. As she heard no sound from beyond, she carefully opened the portal and slipped through, securing it behind her. The room she entered was dark save for the barest hint of light seeping in through a window, but she could not tell if it was the first rays of sunshine signifying the start of the day or the waning shafts as it descended for the evening. Knowing that was the least of her worries, she lifted her skirt in one hand, held the knife in the other before Alfstanna creeping towards the door leading outside ... and silently left the building.

* * *

Never before had she ever felt so utterly and completely drained after such little physical activity. Alfstanna found herself, not for the first time that first day of freedom either, pausing to lean against a tree so that she could catch her breath. She had been able to determine that she was if not actually high up in the mountains, she was at an elevated enough level to affect her breathing. She was reminded of a childhood visit to Orzammar with her father and brother when he had attended a trade negotiation on behalf of King Maric.

_Alfstanna struggled to breath as they ascended the path, feeling more and more light headed as they climbed. No one else was saying anything, so she remained silent, thinking perhaps because she was having trouble because she was barely nine years old ... but then realized if that was the issue, then Irminric should be having trouble as well. She stole a glance over at her twin. Though is cheeks were a bit pink from the wind, he seemed otherwise fine._

_Refocusing her gaze on the path before them, Alfstanna stumbled on until she felt her father's hand at her waist, lifting her onto his back. He wore no weapons or armor this day, surrounded by his men of the Waking Sea, save for a dagger at his waist. Settling his daughter into a comfortable position, he asked, "Is that better, my little sea urchin?"_

_Giggling more in relief than her father's use of the nickname he had given her years before, she nodded and lowered her head to his shoulder. "Yes, papa," she replied. "But why ...?"_

_The Bann chortled softly, reassuringly. "No worries, my darling," he promised. "Where we live, at Stormgard, we are used to the air we breathe that is at sea level. Dominic has taught you this, yes?"_

_Alfstanna thought of her tutor back at the estate and nodded. "Yes."_

" _Well," her father continued, the slightest of hitches in his breath from the exertion combined with climbing, "when you climb to higher levels, you move above sea level. At higher levels, the air that you breathe is thinner, it does not have as much of the things in it that we are used to breathing down at sea level. It will not kill you unless you are reckless," he assured her with a gentle pat at the leg at his waist, "but if you take your time, ease yourself into the transition, you will be fine. But the difference is enough to make you dizzy and light headed."_

_Alfstanna nodded again and tightened her hold around his shoulders. Then a thought hit her. "Papa, ... is you carrying me being ... reckless?"_

_She felt the rumble of laughter through his back, his shoulders and heard it as he turned to speak very softly to her. "Ah, my little sea urchin, you are a very thoughtful young lady. No, child, I shall be fine for we will be stopping to rest soon, but I do thank you for thinking of your father and evaluating your situation."_

_Alfstanna hugged the man tightly, relief washing through her young body._

Alfstanna's thoughts were brought back to the present with a suddenness when she stepped on a fallen tree limb and felt it roll beneath her foot ... and her ankle giving way. Falling hard to the ground, she bit back a cry as the sharp twinge of agonizing pain ran up her leg. Breathing in sharply through her nose, she forced the breath out through her lips slowly, focusing on releasing the pain at the same time. Carefully, she pulled herself beneath the tree from which the limb had apparently fallen and sat. Shifting her skirts, and cursing for the inconvenience of them, she managed to pull her leg onto her lap so that she could inspect the damage.

After several moments of careful prodding, Alfstanna reached for the slip beneath her skirts, tearing away the frilly fringe while silently thankful that Clare had suggested it. Next, she unbuckled her boot, removing the footwear slowly so as not to aggravate the injury further. Moments later, she had the ankle wrapped in a makeshift bandage that, if nothing else, provided support for the injured area, and she struggled to get the boot back on before it might swell further and be impossible. Once this had been accomplished, she leaned heavily upon the trunk of the tree to regain her footing, holding onto the tree as she tested her handiwork. With a sigh of relief, she realized it would do.  _Must have only wrenched it,_  she thought.  _It hurts, but it takes my weight. Not even a sprain._

Glancing around, Alfstanna saw that the sun was beginning to descend for the day, and she knew she would have to find shelter. But where? She felt the chill of the air shimmer through the thin sleeves of her dress and was thankful that she at least had that, though she knew it would be no help against the cool night air. "No sense in bemoaning the situation," she murmured to herself. "I have to make do with what I have available as Papa taught us as children." And with that, she started out yet again, more resolute than ever.


	14. Chapter 14

Days and weeks began to flow together in a never ending pattern of oblivion as Alfstanna scrambled and scraped her way across the unfamiliar countryside. She thought it had taken at least a week to get out of the mountains, or at least down to a level where she could breathe easier, feel the moisture in the air from ...  _where?_  she wondered. It took her some time, but she finally decided it was fresh water, not the salty sea water near her home.  _Lake Calenhad_? Once she was out of the rugged mountainous terrain, she also began to find her way a bit more easily than she had before. The time above had depleted most of her strength, however, mostly due to the fact that she had survived by eating plants and berries she had happened upon during her journey as she had no weapon other than the simple knife the mage had left her with.

It was at this point she was able to "borrow" a blade, a crossbow and some bolts, as well as an old and worn traveling cloak from an unattended outer-pasture barn that she came across. She made note of the location, hoping that she might be able to recompense the owners for their foresight in leaving the weaponry and clothing behind.

When finally she did make it to the lake's edge (she breathed a sigh of relief that her instincts had served her well), Alfstanna spent the first day simply resting in the shadows, unsure of who she might meet if she did not, and whether they would be friend or foe. She found out the hard way, two nights later, that there were enemies still lying in wait, searching for her. After nearly stumbling into their path while crossing the road, she spent the better part of the night on the run again. But she had the darkness as her ally this time, and the fact that the men had been mounted on horseback. By the time they gave up their steeds, she managed to lose them.

But it was not without cost. As she scrambled across the stony, rocky and occasionally forested area near the lake, Alfstanna missed a step in the darkness and fell. This time it was not her ankle, but her right shoulder that took the brunt of the fall, slamming hard and awkwardly into a larger boulder. As she stumbled back to her feet, shouldering the crossbow over her left shoulder now, Alfstanna held the injured arm close to her side and prayed that she would soon make it to safety. During the night, as the pain of her injury increased to levels that were causing a severe headache, she spotted a patch of elfroot and grabbed a handful of the leaves. Placing one leaf into her mouth, Alfstanna began chewing it raw, drawing the healing properties from the plant as Dominic had taught her and Irminric when they were young.  _The Dalish will do this in extreme cases of emergency,_ he had instructed.  _Remember, this could mean the difference between life and death._

 

* * *

 

Lysette was in her study when seneschal Daynan rapped lightly before entering the room. "Yes, Daynan?" she asked, her eyes still reading the report that she had received that afternoon.  _Blast it, Alfstanna, where are you? We should have heard something by now!_

"Your Grace," the man announced, "you have three visitors."

Lysette lifted her gaze to find Nathaniel, Clare and Anders entering the room. By their looks, she could tell they had been on the road for a while. "Daynan, have Heather fix a meal for my friends please, then prepare some rooms."

"Yes, my lady."

Rising to her feet as the seneschal left, the door closing behind him, she lifted a brow and greeted them by asking, "Am I to assume your ... presence here is an indication that nothing panned out?"

As current Warden Commander of Ferelden, Nathaniel responded irritably, "I swear, one of these days, when you ask something of me, Lys, I will be able to respond with a more positive result."

With a sad smile, Lysette stepped forward and gave the man a brief hug in greeting. "It's not your fault, Nate, that I give you impossible and, need I remind you, un-Warden-like tasks to do." Sighing, she gestured the three over to the nearby chairs in front of the hearth. Once they had all been seated, she asked, "Were you able to find out anything?"

"Oh, we found out plenty," Anders replied, his voice unusually terse instead of his normal playful banter, "but nothing pertinent to the present search." He sighed and ran a hand across his face. "You know, I'd almost rather face a horde of darkspawn than an unending trail of nothingness."

Lysette glanced at Nathaniel who shook his head. "He's just cranky because we ran into some rather ... impertinent Templars in Lothering," the Commander returned quietly.

"Well, it wasn't  _only_  that," Anders retorted before sighing again.

Lysette bit back a chuckle. A quick glance at Clare revealed the same reaction. Anders was destined to forever being haunted by the group of men and women determined to bring him back to the Tower.

"We did hear some interesting rumors, however," Nathaniel added. Sitting forward, he used his hands to tick off the various locations and sources of his pieces of information. Lysette found her eyes widening at his assessment. She glanced over at Anders as well and he caught her gaze, nodding in his agreement. Then Clare. Biting her lip, Lysette rose to her feet and crossed to stare out the window.

 _What is going on here?_  she wondered. She heard the door open then, a servant announcing the arrival of the meal, but she ignored it knowing that the Wardens would make themselves at home. They were Wardens, after all, and the famous (or infamous as many a tavernkeeper and cook had found over the years) appetite was apparent. By now, Lysette suspected that Clare had grown used to this and would fend for her own plate of food before the men ate everything else. As her friends demolished the assortment of bread, cheeses, meats and fruits, Lysette continued to ruminate upon the information they had provided.

Finally making a decision, she turned back and rejoined them. Seating herself after lifting an orange from the tray, she began peeling the skin from the exotic fruit and announced, "I hate to ask it -"

"You want us to head to Denerim," Nathaniel finished for her.

Lysette nodded. "Alistair needs to be made aware of these ... rumors as soon as possible. It will be within his purview to deal with them."

Anders groaned. "Back on a horse tonight? Really?" He saw her nod. "And here I was already dreaming of a nice warm bath, a comfortable bed and a pretty lady with which to sleep."

Lysette grinned. "Hmm, two out of three perhaps," she agreed, "though I think your chances on the last are a bit dim considering your last visit." She saw him wince at that. Clare gave her a questioning look, but Nathaniel was simply shaking his head in disbelief.

"Ah ... I take it Anna was not pleased with my departure then?" Anders observed.

"You are very lucky she is not working this evening, Anders," Lysette replied with a broad wink at Nathaniel. "Otherwise you might just have another riding companion with you ..."

A short time later, Lysette was following the three out of the keep to the courtyard where they were given fresh mounts for their journey. "If you see Teagan, update him as well please."

"Will do, Lys," Nathaniel promised. He stepped forward for a moment, to stand before her. They had come a long way since the end of the Blight, her forgiveness of his family, his acceptance of what his father had done and why, but Nathaniel felt that they were now friends as well as brother and sister within the order. With an affectionate hug, he whispered, "I will make sure they both know as quietly as possible." No use in letting their adversaries get wind of their knowledge.

Lysette kissed his cheek. "Maker go with you, my friend." She turned to Anders then who stepped forward and hugged her as well. She felt a warm affection for both men as they were two of her first recruits into the Wardens after the Blight. "Be safe, Anders," she told him softly, "or I really will send Anna after you ..." She grinned at his good natured groan before stepping back so that they could mount and depart. Turning towards Clare, Lysette embraced her. "Have faith!" she whispered and was glad to see Alfstanna's maid nod. It would not be easy, with lead after lead drying up almost as quickly as it was found, but they  _would_  succeed. They had to.

* * *

The darkness of the evening was still a thick blanket over the sky though the moon was on the wane when Alfstanna neared the edge of a cliff and saw the lights down below her. Frowning, she tried to focus through the hazy ache at her shoulder and the fuzzy numbness of raw elfroot that was working through her system. Glancing up above, she searched for the stars her brother had once shown her, made the pattern in her head and determined her location.  _Redcliffe!_  Alfstanna gasped in relief.  _Oh, Maker, you have guided my footsteps!_

Alfstanna knew she must look a sight as she approached the guards at the gate of Redcliffe castle, but she was more concerned about finding a place of security in which she could rest to care. When challenged by the guard, she lowered the hood to her cloak so that he could see her face. She recognized him as one of the Redcliffe soldiers who had been present at Highever several months before when she and Alistair had visited and the king had proposed. "Quietly," she urged him, "please inform the Arlessa that an old friend has arrived. Tell her that I apologize for my tardiness."

The man nodded, gently escorting her inside the gate to the nearby guardhouse where she could sit in darkness and obscurity when it became obvious that she did not wish to enter the keep in full view of everyone else. "Yes, your Majesty," he whispered.

Alfstanna sat in silence, thankful to be at safe rest for the first time in what seemed like years. She fought to stay awake until Lysette arrived, wanting to reassure her friend that she was all right. She realized a short time later, though, that she must have fallen asleep when she heard a soft, urgent female voice whispering, "Alfstanna? Is it truly you?"

Lifting the lids to her eyes, the queen nodded slightly, a soft smile upon her lips. "Lys? I - I'm not dreaming, am I?"

Lysette assisted her friend to her feet and pulled her close for a warm hug ... until she heard Alfstanna's gasp of pain. Releasing her, her tone all business, she demanded, "Where are you injured?"

"Right shoulder," she replied. Then, almost frantically, "Lys, please, I don't want anyone knowing ... not yet. There are people after me ..."

Lysette turned towards the guard who had fetched her. "Mickley, I want you to lead us in through the servant's entrance. Once we get her to a room, you will have duty there. Styles can manage the gate tonight. I will send Abrams to relieve you in a few hours."

"Absolutely, my lady," he replied immediately. He stepped outside and checked the courtyard. Nodding, he led them to the nearby entrance, triggered the secret latch and held the door for them to enter. As the barricade closed once more, he led them down the short pathway until they entered the main floor. Leaving their side for the briefest of moments, he made sure the halls were cleared before leading them towards the private living quarters that the Arl and Arlessa inhabited. "Which room?"

Lysette gestured to the one on the north side of the castle. Mickley opened the door for them and held it as they passed through. "One more thing, if you will," Lysette murmured. "Please ask Daynan to have a bath readied in the sitting room. If he asks why, tell him it is for me."

"Yes, my lady."

Lysette led Alfstanna through the sitting room directly into the bedroom. Seating her friend on the bed, she helped her remove her weapons and her cloak. When she realized that Alfstanna was still dressed in her wedding dress, Lysette felt quick tears form. "Alf -!"

Alfstanna smiled at her friend. "Believe it or not, Lys, I did better in this than if I had been in trousers and tunic," she replied. Softly, she explained the benefits of having escaped in her dress. "Not that I recommend it," she concluded a few minutes later, "but it was beneficial to my needs at the time."

Lysette nodded as she carefully removed the boot from her friend's injured ankle. She was about to query Aflstanna about the injury when she realized what she was holding in her hands. "Alf ... really?" she teased with a glance. "Boots? I mean, a state dinner is one thing, but your own wedding?"

Alfstanna giggled softly as the tension from the past days, weeks and months finally began finding release. "It was my one request," she replied, feeling her laughter beginning to turn to tears of relief. "Al - Alistair ... said ..."

Lysette caught her friend close and simply held her, carefully, so that she could release her pent up emotional turmoil. "Alfstanna, hush," she murmured gently. "He has been looking for you from the moment we realized you were gone, you know."

Alfstanna struggled to recover herself. Lifting her eyes to Lysette's, she asked, "We need to get him word."

Lysette grinned. "I know just the way," she returned. "After we get you cleaned up and resting, I will send a message off to Teagan by carrier pigeon." She saw the queen's eyes widen. "It was an idea that I got from a friend during the Blight," she admitted softly while recalling the gentle debate with the stone golem on the benefits of pigeons. "Teagan and I have some trained to fly between Redcliffe and Denerim. We will get a message to your husband in the next couple of days, and Alistair can be here within a week after that."

Alfstanna nodded and stood so Lysette could assist her with the removal of the dress over her bad shoulder. A short time later, after the servants had all been removed from the room, she found herself groaning softly at the sensation of warm water enveloping her body in a soothing cocoon.


	15. Chapter 15

Teagan was in the office with Ser Michael Perth, Lady Violette and Givens when a messenger from his estate arrived. Frowning, he stepped away from the ongoing discussion and gestured the lad indoors and accepted the small piece of parchment. "Thank you, Daniel."

Violette stood beside the hanging panel they had created: A white linen table cloth, with pieces of parchment containing different information pinned in particular groupings, was attached to the wall. There were also segments of wool yarn connecting the various parchment pieces that represented the links that had been uncovered by the investigation team thus far. She and Givens were discussing the reasoning between some of the connections when she head a startled grunt of exclamation behind her. Turning, she noticed Teagan had gone pale. "My lord?" she called, walking to his side, "are you unwell?"

Teagan looked up at his companions, wanting to share the information, but forcing himself to remain silent. "It's ... something of a more ... personal nature. If you will excuse me ... I will return in a short while." Turning, Teagan hurried out of the room, not waiting for their agreement. He knew they would continue in his absence. If he had learned nothing else over the past several weeks, he had learned that the three were very dedicated in finding out what had happened to their queen.

Teagan maneuvered his way through the palace until he reached Alistair's office. The king's secretary, Andreas, waved him right in understanding that if Teagan was calling, it was important. Moments later, Teagan stood before Alistair's desk.

Alistair set aside the document he'd been reading (it was all a jumbled mess in his head at any rate, and therefore a losing cause) and looked up at his visitor. "Teagan. What can I do for you?"

Teagan could see that the weeks of strain were beginning to take a toll upon the young king, and he sincerely hoped that the news he had would offer the younger man some sort of respite. Nodding in the direction of the private royal gardens behind the office, the arl suggested, "It is a beautiful day outside, your Majesty. Why don't we walk while I brief you."

Alistair rose, immediately sensing the importance of what his friend was about to tell him. They exited through the doors, noticing as they did that there was still a doubled presence of guards outside and around the building. "You have news then?" Alistair asked, trying to keep from sounding too hopeful.

Teagan nodded. He handed the slip of paper to the king and murmured, "My wife sent me this via the pigeon messaging system we established. It is current as of a few days ago."

_Teagan,_

_The jewel that disappeared from my ring has found its way back home._ _Repairs are to be made immediately. As of yet, still unsure what happened, but looking to make sure it doesn't repeat. Much love._

_Lys_

Alistair frowned. It was a testament to how much stress he had been under as of late that he had to ask, "I know this isn't about some ring ...?

Teagan stopped walking and waited for Alistair to do the same. Gripping the younger man's shoulder tightly, he murmured, "Lysette is asking for you to come to Redcliffe. Alfstanna is safe, Alistair."

The king's breath caught as his gaze sought Teagan's. "You - you are sure?" he whispered, hope warring with disbelief.

Teagan nodded. Pointing the note, he broke the message down. "The 'jewel' is Alfstanna; 'found its way back home' means that she escaped on her own; 'repairs' would refer to you; and the rest indicates that they are still looking for those behind it all."

Alistair felt his head begin to spin and if not for the pressure of Teagan's hand on his arm, he thought he might have fallen over. "I -"

"Alistair, I will make the arrangements for you," Teagan told him quietly, immediately, "but you will need to play this down; act simply as if you are visiting Redcliffe for an update on the investigation. We cannot play our hand yet - we must still identify who is behind this." He paused for a long moment, waiting for his friend and king to digest all that he had just said. "Do you think you can manage that?"

Alistair nodded, although he was silently wondering if he could hide his emotions that well. Then his thoughts drifted to the image of his wife ... and he knew he would do whatever it took. Straightening, he nodded at Teagan. "I understand," he returned, his voice sounding stronger than it had since before the wedding.

Teagan began leading Alistair back indoors. Before they arrived, he whispered, "Be ready to leave by morning. I will take care of everything else."

Alistair nodded before saying in a louder voice as they entered his office, "Thank you, Arl Teagan, for the update. I look forward to your next update."

* * *

Later that afternoon, as everyone began clearing out for the evening meal, Teagan asked Violette, "My lady, would you stay for a moment? I have some notes here in your hand that I am having trouble deciphering."

Violette was startled, but she nodded immediately.  _How strange,_  she thought.  _He has never had trouble reading my handwriting before now._  She waited patiently, straightening the room as she waited for the others clear out. She saw Ser Perth (Violette smiled softly and thought,  _Michael ..._  His steady and calming presence had become a comfort to her as the queen's (and her dear friend's) disappearance dragged on - someone she could confide in and whose opinions she valued highly) silently ask her a question, but she shook her head and waved him on. Nodding, he departed, closing the door behind him. She had no doubt that he would be waiting outside the room for her in order to escort her to dinner.

Approaching Teagan's desk, she opened her mouth to speak, and was startled when he rose instead and gestured her over towards the table. After assisting her to a seat, he placed the scrap of parchment in front of her, watching her reactions closely as she read. He saw the moment she made the connection.

"Oh Maker!" she breathed softly, her hand beginning to tremble. Glancing up at him from the document, she whispered, "Am I ... understanding this correctly?"

Teagan nodded before reaching out to retrieve the note. As he did so, he murmured, "Violette, we must keep this quiet. Until we find out who all is behind this attack, she will not be safe from repeat attempts."

Violette blinked once, then nodded. "I - I understand," she replied. Then turning towards him for the briefest of moments, she asked, "Might ... might I tell Michael, my lord?" At the arl's look, she blushed slightly, but she maintained his gaze ... and saw him smile.

"Michael, is it?" he teased lightly but kindly.

Violette managed to keep her embarrassment from hindering her. "Yes, my lord."

Teagan sat back for a moment, his hand moving to stroke his chin while he thought. "V," he told her, using Alfstanna's nickname for her secretary, "Ser Perth is one of the finest knights I've ever known. He is loyal beyond question, and his dedication to duty is something to behold. During the Blight, he was one of the few who returned from hunting for the Urn of Sacred Ashes when he heard that the village was under attack." He saw Violette nod. "I will leave the ultimate decision up to you. Just keep in mind that the more people who know - and right now it is just you, me and the king - the greater the chance of discovery."

Violette nodded. "I understand, my lord. Thank you." Rising, she added, "Will there be anything else?"

Teagan smiled and shook his head. "No, my lady," he told her, rising to follow her to the door. "Have a good evening."

With a final nod, Violette exited the room. As she had expected, Michael was standing nearby waiting for her. "Is all well?" he queried.

Violette smiled up at him and nodded. "Yes, it was a simple ... misunderstanding," she returned softly as he led her down the hall. Suddenly realizing they were heading away from the palace dining hall, she asked, "Did you have somewhere else in mind to eat this evening?"

Michael smiled. "I thought perhaps the Gnawed Noble might be acceptable?"

Violette allowed a smile to spread across her face. "I wonder if Cyril has a private dining room available?" she mused. "Some things are not meant for public ears."

Michael's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he nodded. "Of course, my lady. Cyril usually keeps one or two rooms available at all hours," he assured her as they walked in that direction. He suspected that this would prove to be an interesting evening.


	16. Chapter 16

Per Lysette's instructions via Teagan, Alistair left Denerim immediately, taking a minimal entourage with him on his journey to Redcliffe. Though he wanted to utilize the outrider system he'd set up across the country immediately following the Blight, he found that even with a minimal force, the number of horses necessary for his armed escort would not be met. That said, during the extended journey, Alistair found himself thinking of alternative possibilities to improve the outrider system. It was one of the few things he could ponder to keep himself distracted enough so that he would not accidentally reveal that his wife had been found.

Leliana had once told him that she had made the journey from Denerim to Redcliffe in six days. It took him and his men eight. When he did finally arrive, crossing the bridge into the courtyard of Redcliffe castle while guards scurried about to announce their arrival, Alistair halted his steed and dismounted. When he turned, he found Lysette walking down the stairs from the main entrance, a guarded look settled upon her features. Quickly, Alistair moved to her side. "Where?" he asked as he began walking in step with her.

Lysette shook her head, saying softly, "Inside," before leading him into the keep.

Before ducking in through the door, Alistair glanced over at Givens. The king nodded at the door, Givens returning the nod in acknowledgement. Then turning his attention back to Lysette, he followed her inside.

Lysette led him to a staircase leading up to the second floor level. They followed the halls around, twisting and turning, until they came to the private wing. There, Lysette pulled him into a sitting room and turned to face him. From the look on her face, Alistair feared the worst and felt his stomach drop at the thought. Steeling himself, he told her, "How is she?"

Lysette searched his face before she led him to another door. Before opening it, she smiled and murmured, "You were right to choose her, Alistair. She's been through a lot, she's had some injuries, but she is strong and she will be fine."

* * *

As she had done since her arrival, Alfstanna rarely left the room Lysette had given her upon her arrival at Redcliffe. This was for two reasons: one, she simply did not feel up to wandering or exploring the castle; and two, she was still afraid of being discovered. The memories of close calls, of the kidnapping itself, and the lack of memories from her captivity all blended into a mass of ever growing fear that she had no clue how to control or diminish.

So, as usual, she found herself seated near the window, staring out at Lake Calenhad beyond. As a child, her father had brought her and Irminric to the Lake on numerous occasions, at various locations around the lake itself, including Redcliffe itself. She found a sense of peace and calmness watching the waves, the occasional boats sailing across the blue expanse of water, the clouds floating softly across the sky. For hours, she would sit thus, her thoughts drifting, her mind wandering desperately seeking escape from what had happened to her.

On this afternoon, she sat, staring out beyond, but with the soft sound of voices and the slight creak of the door, her attention was pulled back to her current surroundings. Rising to her feet, her body automatically moving to a posture of defense (for she vowed never to be caught unawares again), she turned ... and watched as Alistair entered the room, searching her out. She saw a flood of emotions crossing his face in that moment: hope, fear, panic, concern. She watched as he crossed the room to her side in three long strides, his presence filling the room around them. Glancing up at his face, she gave him a hesitant smile; not as easy as she had done once before, but it was a smile nonetheless. When he reached a hand out for her, she couldn't help but wince in reaction, noticing as she did the pained expression that crossed his face before he dropped his hands to his side. "Oh, Alistair," she breathed softly, her lower lip pulling between her teeth in worry, "I-I am sorry."

Alistair shook his head immediately. "No," he told her gently, "no apologies." In the next moment, however, he found that he couldn't keep himself from lifting a hand to brush back a loose tendril of hair that had fallen forward in front of her eyes. He saw her wince again at the nearness of his touch, but he moved slowly, gently tucking the strand behind her ear, murmuring softly as he had seen her do with Piceron when he was having an uneasy moment. He smiled a moment later when he saw her visibly relax. Taking a moment to glance around the room then, he found that Lysette had left them alone, closing the door behind her as she left. "Tanna," he murmured, "I do not want to ... cause you further upset. If you would like me to leave, I will -" He was surprised at how quickly she reached out and grasped his wrist in an incredibly tight hold.

"No, please!" she begged softly. Then, with a sigh, she gestured towards the bed. "Would you mind if I lie down, though? I am still rather exhausted and I -"

Alistair reacted without thinking, lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. He felt her freeze momentarily and he cursed himself beneath his breath as he realized what he had done, but then she suddenly relaxed in his arms, lifting one of her own to loop around his neck as he transported her, resting her head upon his shoulder. He set her in the center of the huge bed leaning back against the pile of pillows there. Before taking a seat on the mattress next to her, he pulled covers up to cover her legs and waited for her to nod and gesture for him to sit.

Alfstanna smiled at him after what seemed like forever, finally reaching out to take his hand in hers. "I know this is hard," she said, a slight catch in her voice, "and perhaps after I have ... talked about it some, it will not ... bother me quite as much ... I really do not know ..."

Alistair closed his eyes and shuddered at the thought.  _Can I withstand the telling?_  he wondered. Then,  _I have to ... it it my fault this happened._  "I am here," he finally told her.  _I have to if only for her,_  he corrected himself. "Talk if you wish to, or not." He lifted his lids to look into her emerald gaze. "Just tell me what you need from me, Tanna, and it will be yours. I promise."

Alfstanna smiled deeply, truly for the first time since their wedding day. Reaching out with her right hand, she ran it along his cheek as she realized much of her fears and concerns where he was concerned were slowly fading simply because he was sitting beside her.  _I am no longer alone!_  she thought. With a heavy sigh, she told him, "Believe it or not, your presence here, your normal, common, everyday countenance that you have always had, even before you became king, is a help." She saw the startled look in his eyes and she bit her lip before rushing on to say, "I do not mean to insult you -"

With a grin, Alistair reached out and waited for her to place her hand in his so that he could lift it to his lips to brush the knuckles with a kiss. "You are not," he assured her quickly. And then, in the off-hand manner he would usually fall into with those who knew him best, he smiled and asked, "So, let me see if I understand you correctly? My 'stable boy' attitude is a good thing, yes?"

Alfstanna gasped, but then noted the look of mischief twinkling in his eyes, saw the lopsided grin easing his features, and felt a soft squeeze of her hand. With a smile, she nodded slightly. "I suppose you could put it that way, your Majesty." When his eyebrow lifted at that, Alfstanna realized how she had addressed him. Blushing, she corrected herself, "Sorry, ... husband."

Alistair swallowed a grin. "Well now, while that is  _technically_  accurate," he told her softly, teasingly while rubbing his thumb over the ring on her finger that he had placed there the month before, "I would still prefer you call me by my given name. At least once in a while," he added with a wink, "just so I know you remember who went through that dreaded ceremony with you that lasted for hours ... and that was just the wedding!" With another wink, he added, "We will not even discuss your coronation as queen ... I do not know how that old windbag could keep talking as long as she did ... I found myself almost wishing that Orlesian forces would invade simply to give us an excuse to evacuate the chantry ..."

Alfstanna was amazed by the complete and utter sense of relief that washed through her at that moment. She realized now that she would be able to tell him all of it, every last detail, and not have to fear his reaction. She knew he was honorable, and as such he would be angry, but not with her. Smiling through a gentle blush, she patted the space next to her. "If you would like, Alistair, I-"

Alistair did not wait for her to finish. He shifted positions so that he could lean against the backboard, sitting as close to his wife as he dared. When he saw her smile up at him, he opened his arms, allowing her to make the decision, and found his patience rewarded when she leaned into his embrace. Gently, for he could see that she had her right arm bound up, he drew her to him before leaning his cheek against the crown of her head.  _I almost lost you before I really knew what we could have together ..._

Alfstanna sighed and drew strength from his embrace. She had known he was a kind, caring, considerate person, almost naively to a fault, but she was discovering that it was not necessarily a bad thing after what she had been through these past weeks. "I think ... Alistair," she murmured after a while, "I can tell you what happened now..."

Alistair squeezed her carefully. "Only when you are ready," he told her.

Alfstanna smiled at that as she began. "The last thing I remember, was seeing my brother go down while I was caught up in some kind of paralysis spell ..."

 


	17. Chapter 17

"I was speaking with Ric and Bann Shianni when the attack upon you came," Alfstanna explained slowly, her eyes focused on her hands in her lap. "Ric was the first to react. I - I didn't realize at first just what was happening ..." Alfstanna shook her head just a bit. "He began tensing up ... I guess he sensed the presence of the mages, but he wouldn't respond ..." Turning her head, she glanced up at her husband. "Ric obviously knew that there was a mage in the group of attackers and, Maker love him, he instinctively tried to repel the fiend." She turned her gaze back then, leaning against Alistair's shoulder, feeling his cheek lying against her crown.

At her words, Alistair found himself nodding, his head rubbing gently against hers where the two touched. "I remember," he told her softly as he thought back to the events that day. "I happened to be looking in your direction when the attack started. I was starting to come to you ... and I reacted the same."

Alfstanna nodded. "Unfortunately, unlike you, Irminric does not have the same strength with his abilities without the dependence upon lyrium. His attack failed, and the mage retaliated against him." She paused a moment to breathe deeply before glancing up at him again. "Is my brother all right?" she asked a bit breathlessly. This had been one of the questions preying on her mind since being kidnapped. "He is alive, isn't he? Lys told me she didn't know much about his status, and I am not even sure what I know or believe at this point."

Alistair wavered about telling her the truth, but then decided he did not want to begin their marriage based on either lies or half truths. "Irminric was not severely injured," he admitted, his arms sliding around her waist as he held her against him. "But that is not to say that he has not been ailing. Most of his complications have arisen due to his concern for you and the stress of your disappearance. However, I have kept him at the palace under the supervision of Petra, our healing mage, and he seems to be making progress. Knowing that you are safe and well will do him no end of good, I am sure."

Alfstanna nodded against Alistair's chest, some of the tension that she had been relying on to keep her going now easing from her body. "During the mage's attack, while Ric fought, I managed to push Bann Shianni out of the way, to get her clear. The attack was particularly nasty: I saw them moving towards you, some towards me; I saw as Ric was tossed aside, and he went down ... the last thing I remember was feeling suddenly sleepy and being unable to move ..."

Alfstanna stopped talking then, her thoughts trying to refocus on things she did not or could not remember then. How was she supposed to tell her husband, to get him to understand and believe, that her next clear memory came from more than three weeks later? Would he think her crazy? Damaged?

Alistair felt his wife tense against him, her body trembling like a leaf. He searched for something to say, something that might ease her mind but not cause her pain ... "I - I tried to get to you," he finally admitted softly, his hand gently rubbing her arm from shoulder to hand. "But Givens and his men were adamant that I get to safety."

Alfstanna reached out to cover his hand with hers, bringing his motions to a stop, but then she laced her hand with his, squeezing their hands together. "They ... caught me in a paralysis spell, made me sleep ... and kept me that way for more than three weeks," she whispered painfully. She felt his hand tighten around hers. "And when ...," she paused as her voice cracked, her breathing becoming shallow pants as the fear began to creep up on her.

Releasing his hand and turning towards him, kneeling in front of him, her facial expression mirroring her confusion and horror. "They ... kept me awake at times," she whispered, "to make sure I ate ... to take care of other ... issues ... but they used spells so that ... I ..."

Alfstanna found that telling her husband that she had no clue as to what happened during her time as a prisoner was almost too much. "Ali," she pleaded in a desperate voice, "I - I don't ... remember ...!" Her voice hitched, and she stumbled over her words. "The ... the mage who let me go?" Alfstanna swallowed. "He said ... he told me nothing happened, but I don't really know that was true ... do I?"

There was silence as she knelt before him, tears running freely down her cheeks, her eyes searching his to be sure he understood. She didn't know how long the quiet lasted, but Alfstanna soon found herself wrapped in strong, muscled arms as shudders wracked through her body.

Alistair could see that Alfstanna was agonizing over what had happened, and his immediate reaction was to somehow use his body as a shield to protect her, though he knew that the time for that was past. Instead, he pulled her onto his lap, adjusting her so that she was lying with her head against his chest and shoulder, cradling her close and praying that it would be enough.

"I am sorry," she cried softly, allowing his arms, his touch to chase her fears and horrific memories away. "I'm so, so very sorry!"

"No," Alistair breathed into her hair near her ear, his own voice cracking with emotion as he held her, soothed her. He felt her trembling and tightened his hold, hoping his touch would help. "No apologies, Tanna," he insisted in a gentle tone. "If anyone is to blame, I -"

Turning into his chest, she told him, "No! This was not your fault, Alistair!" She lifted her head so she could catch his gaze with hers. There, in the eyes that she had found absolutely fascinating from the first moment they had met, was the anchor keeping her in the present. "Remember what I told you before? I knew the chances, knew the risks when I agreed to be your wife. The fault lies with the people responsible for the attack, not with you or anyone else."

Alistair groaned and pulled her close again, her head coming to rest upon his shoulder. "We have come this far," he murmured near her ear. "I don't want to lose you before we have a chance to find out what we could have together."

Alfstanna slid her arms around his chest, holding him close to her, soaking in the comfort and strength that he offered her with his presence. She moved to rest her head above his heart, listening as the steady rhythm calmed her, soothed her, comforted her. "And we will have that," she promised.

Alistair secured an arm around her back, and brought the other so that he could press her head against his chest. This hand he used to brush her dark waves away from her face as well. "We will," he agreed.

They sat there in each other's arms on the bed for a while, the sun beyond the windows slowly fading away as night fell, the temperature in the room cooling slightly, their conversation faded away in return for a companionable silence. After a while, Alistair reached over for a blanket that was folded at the end of the bed, pulling it up to cover Alfstanna who fell asleep with her head lying in his lap.

As he gently tucked the blanket around her, Alistair thought on what she had told him: sleep spells, probably some sort of disorientation spell and ... something else? He frowned. Having trained as a Templar, Alistair learned the about mage spells so that he would know what they were, how to recognize them, how they might be employed, and potential side effects if they were used in combination with each other. During the Blight as they traveled with Morrigan, he learned of other spells, ones that even Wynne hadn't known about. But he had never come across any spell, or combination of spells, that would cause a person to not remember ...

 _Ah, my love,_  he thought to himself as he ran a hand through her hair slowly and gently,  _how difficult it must be for you! To not know what happened ... Tell me what to do, how to help you heal ..._  As he watched her sleep, he began making plans to contact Wynne to see if she might have any advice - both on what spells that were used and on how to help Alfstanna heal.


	18. Chapter 18

When she was certain that she would not be disrupting their discussion, Lysette entered the room as quietly as she could. Inside she found the king seated with his back against the headboard, the queen's head lying in his lap, his hand stroking her hair gently in a soothing gesture. Lysette smiled when she saw the look in her friend's eyes.  _Oh, Alistair,_  she thought,  _you have come such a long way, my friend._

Alistair looked up as he heard the soft rustle of movement. Giving Lysette one of his trademark grins he watched her cross the room to his side and take a seat on the edge of the bed. "How is she?" Lysette asked softly.

Alistair glanced down at his wife's face again. "Has she told you?" he asked softly. "About what happened, that is?"

Lysette nodded. "A little," she replied. "I suspect that she is still working through a lot of it, though."

Alistair nodded. "She is," he agreed, "but I have no doubt that she will be fine. She has so much strength inside of her ... I - I honestly don't know how she does it ..."

"Hmmm, she is a lot like her husband, I would imagine," Lysette replied. When Alistair looked over at her, she smiled warmly. Reaching out and patting his arm, she told him, "It was one of the things I always admired about you, Alistair - your strength. Remember the saying, 'That which does not kill us makes us stronger?' You have exemplified that every single day since I met you at Ostagar." Lysette saw his look turn to one of bewilderment and she grinned. "I know you didn't see it, but I did, and it was always there when I or one of the others needed it whether you were aware of that or not. And," she added, "it wasn't just the physical strength we saw. One of the things that makes you such a good king, my friend, is your strength of  _character_. I know you didn't think of yourself as the leader while we were out there, but there were times, particularly towards the end, where you were our emotional leader." She saw him blush slightly and rose to move to his side. Leaning over, she kissed the top of his head. "I am glad you are my Brother, Alistair, and that you have now found the happiness you have always wanted ... and you truly deserve." Turning to leave, she asked, "Would you like me to have food sent up? I am sure you must be hungry."

He shook his head. "Later," he told her.

Silently, Alistair watched his friend leave the room before turning his attention back to his wife. She was still sleeping, her soft breathing and regular rise and fall of her chest indicating that it was a deep sleep, a healing sleep. Slowly and carefully, he lowered himself to the bed until he was lying beside her with his arm around her waist. Finally, after months of worry, he slept with his wife safe in his arms.

* * *

It was dark out when Alfstanna's eyes opened suddenly. She felt a strong male presence beside her and in the half second before her brain remembered that it was her husband, she managed to squash down the instant fear that began forming. Lifting her head, she saw his eyes were open, his dark gaze focused on her. "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

Alfstanna took a long moment to think on that before she answered. "Better, I think," she replied. "I feel ... stronger, not so fragile ..." She saw the white of his teeth flash in the dark as he smiled. "What?"

"Oh," he murmured into her hair as he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, "I was just trying to use your name and fragile in the same sentence in my head ... does not work I'm afraid ... please try again ..."

Alfstanna could not resist a small chuckle at his humor. It was one of the things she had come to love about this man - the way in which he could make her feel so at ease and relaxed with just a few words or a bit of silliness, no matter how serious the situation, and it really seemed to be helping her move past what had happened. "What words would work then?" she queried, curious as to how he saw her.

Alistair tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him, feeling her, watching her respond as he did so. "Hmm, let me see," he replied in a quiet voice. "Strong and resilient, most definitely ... like fine silk ..." He smiled as she ducked her head for a moment, knowing that if there were light she would have a slight blush upon her cheeks. Reaching down to lift her chin, he waited until she was looking up at him again. "Beautiful ... inside and out." He heard her gasp at this and hurried on to say, "Tanna, your beauty is so much more than simply a look or a presence. It surrounds you like an aura ... it is in all that you do, that you say, how you interact with others. How I ever became so fortunate to have you in my life, I will never know ..."

"Alistair," she whispered suddenly, tear-filled eyes focusing on his, her hand reaching out to him, grasping his wrist lightly, "make love to me ... make me your wife in all things ..."

He glanced down at her, staring into her eyes. "Tanna, I don't want to add insult to injury," he told her honestly. "In a few days perhaps, once you have healed ...?"

Alfstanna lifted herself onto her injured arm, showing him that it was indeed recovering from the injury. "Now, tonight ..."

Alistair lifted one of his hands to her head, caressing her cheek gently, sliding it into the thickness of her hair, now reaching below her shoulders due to her lengthy disappearance. Gently, he pulled her towards him until their lips met; tentatively, carefully at first, but soon strengthening and becoming as fiery as they had in the past.

Alfstanna groaned at the contact, feeling the familiar fire that spread between them from the simple touch. It was the same as that day in the stables, in Pic's stall, she realized. Leaning into the connection, she felt his response rumbling through his chest as well. She felt him teasing her, with his teeth, his tongue, toying with her lips and then her own tongue as he did so, in such a way that she found it hard to believe he was still as inexperienced as he had led her to believe.

Alistair groaned against her mouth as she began responding to his touch.  _Oh Maker, help me do this right!_  he prayed silently. Shifting a bit, he laid Alfstanna back into the pillows, lifting himself over her, his weight on his left arm as he used his right to touch her face, skimming over her nose, her eyes, tracing the shape of her ears. When he began trailing his fingertips down her neck, he both felt and watched as she arched her head back, hearing her soft encouraging sighs. Her bare neck became exposed in the moonlight, and he found himself kissing a path there as well, inhaling her scent ...

He reached the ties to her shift and with one small tug, loosened them so that he could brush the material further away from her neck. Leaning forward, he breathed in her scent again: soft, flowery and spicy all at the same time. He felt the sensations rush to his head, making him feel almost as if he was intoxicated, before lowering his lips to her neck and began kissing her.

Alsfstanna gasped when he touched the juncture of her neck and shoulder, a sensitive area that never failed to send shivers down her spine. Biting her lip to block the cry begging escape for she did not want him to stop his attentions, she instead lifted her hands to his head, running her fingers through his hair while pressing him against her to indicate her enjoyment of his touch. Alistair chuckled softly as he felt her hands on his head.  _So you enjoy that do you?_  he thought as he nipped the area with his teeth, just light enough to get her to jump slightly.  _Good to know ..._

The touch of his teeth to her skin there had sent jolting shocks of electricity through her, and Alfstanna could no longer keep from crying out. She heard his chuckle, sensed his enjoyment, and felt her own body responding to his touch, his attentions, his reactions. Moving her hands to his broad shoulders, she pressed against him, signalling for him to move on, but was surprised when he lifted his head and caught her gaze. "Patience," he told her, a look of pure need in his amber gaze. "I want this to be right; for us both to enjoy this." She could do nothing but nod in reply, before feeling his hands lower to the hem of her shift.

Alistair assisted his wife into a sitting position for the briefest of moments so that he could lift the shift over her head. Once her skin was completely bare, he watched as the moonlight played across the creamy smoothness, dancing along the hills and valleys of her feminine form. He felt his eyes close tightly as he whispered, "Oh, Tanna," in an almost reverent manner.

Alfstanna watched him, saw the blush creeping up his neck when he realized that he had exposed her naked flesh, but it warred against his almost breathless plea as he gasped her name. Smiling, she lifted her hands to his shoulders, watched him as his eyes opened and locked onto the play of her muscles as they moved, the shifting and flexing of other parts of her body as the synchronous movement played out like a seductive dance being performed for him and him alone. "Alistair?" she breathed, leaning in towards him. She waited for him to glance at her face. When he did, she shifted until she was kneeling on the bed, in front of him.

Before moving towards her, Alistair had the presence of mind to remove his own tunic so that when he pulled her to him, all that came between them was bare flesh. He felt her move against him, sliding her now bare breasts against his chest, and he could not stop a gasp of pleasure that unexpectedly ran though him then. Banding his arm around her back, he returned his lips to her neck, finding the spot that had nearly driven her mad earlier, and he began focusing his attentions there again.

Alfstanna felt him pull her to him, licking and laving his way across her neck and shoulders again ... and then lower. Resting her arms upon his shoulders once more for balance, she moved to straddle his legs. As she lifted herself to do so, she felt him lower his head just slightly to capture one of her breasts in his mouth. The warmth of his lips, his tongue, the pressure of the sensation, the tug and pull as he toyed and played with it was almost her undoing. She began to feel her legs tremble beneath her.

Alistair had been surprised when she moved, but he had taken advantage of the opportunity. Moving now to the other, he began the same tantalizing teasing motions across the flesh there, hearing her soft keening cries, feeling her trembling in his arms. As he continued to tease her with his tongue and suckle at her breast, he slid his other hand around her waist, lowering her small clothes over her hips.

Alfstanna instinctively moved against his hand, his touch, feeling the intensity of the roughness of his calloused fingers against her skin as her breathing came in increasingly frantic rhythms. She shifted to allow her final remaining clothing item removed, while at the same time felt the scrape of his teeth against her skin. Tightening her arms around his neck, she felt waves of pleasure shooting through her one after another after another.

Alistair glanced up, wondering if he had gone too far for a moment, and watched as she fought the sensations. "Tanna?"

"Please, Ali," she begged, her eyes mere slits as they caught his gaze, "I want us to fly together! Don't make me do this alone!"

Alistair was humbled by her request. From the little he had heard Zevran talk about the process, and from the few more ... explicit talks he had managed to have with the elf before his departure from Ferelden, Alistair had come away with the belief that the focus was all about the woman. Apparently, his wife did not agree with this sentiment.

Alfstanna opened her eyes as her husband laid her back on the bed, straightening out her long, lean legs, his hands touching her gently, but inciting the riotous sensations at the same time. She watched as he rose and removed the rest of his clothing, turning back to face her before sliding into the bed beside her. In that brief moment before he slid beneath the sheets, she breathed, "Oh Maker!" before reaching out an arm towards him, taking his hand in hers and pulling him close.

Alistair chuckled as he caught her words. "I would say that comparing me to the Maker is a bit blasphemous wife, hmm?" he teased near her ear, catching the lobe with his teeth.

Alfstanna giggled softly, feeling his body slide against hers as she cradled his weight between her hips. "No more so than what we are about to do, I suppose," she returned.

Alistair began his previous attentions to her upper body again, murmuring, "Not just yet..."

Alfstanna groaned as he returned to her breasts, nuzzling and laving them until he had her crying out once more. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he lowered his mouth to her belly, teasing the sensitive flesh there. "N-not ... a good idea," she gasped sharply and suddenly, her hands clutching at his head to make him stop. "Ticklish ..."

Alistair chuckled, his breath softly caressing her skin, but he made note of it and moved on ...

Thankful that he had agreed to leave her over-sensitive mid-section alone, it took Alfstanna a long moment to realize what he was up to next ... The moment his tongue touched her, she cried out and stiffened.

Alistair glanced up at her, watched as his wife began convulsing, shaking, shuddering as her release began to over take her. Moving quickly, he shifted his body until he was looming over her again, his weight on his arms, his chest against hers. Her emerald gaze was unfocused, telling him that he had succeeded in pleasing her at the very least. "Tanna?" he whispered tightly, waiting for her response.

Blinking rapidly, her breath so quick she thought her heart might be stopping, Alfstanna managed to focus upon her husband, whose face now was in front of her again. It took a long moment, but she realized he was asking her permission ... Lifting her arms to his face again, she cried, "Oh yes, my love!" before closing her eyes and focusing all of her attentions on the sensations his body was inciting as he slipped inside of her.

The moment Alistair moved, he began drawing on his Templar training, knowing that if he did not, their experience would be over before it ever really began. He groaned at the feel of her body around him, surrounding him and holding him there so tightly, as if this was where he belonged.  _How can this be? How do we fit so well?_  he wondered briefly.

Alfstanna knew it wouldn't take much for him to set her over the edge once more, and to this end she pulled his face to hers, kissed him, rained light butterfly kisses over his face, her soft cries escaping with each panting breath. "Now, now, now, now!" she began chanting softly, feeling him respond to her urging. She groaned at the increasingly driving rhythm and felt the sensation of completion as it began creeping up her spine. "Alistair!" she cried before arching her neck back and groaning.

Alistair's eyes were closed tightly, his focus on allowing her to break free first. He felt her hips rising to meet his, felt her lips brushing against his face, heard her soft voice cry out his name ... felt her body go boneless as she found her release. Only then, after he was certain that she had found her fulfillment, did he allow himself the same before he collapsed beside her, his arm still holding her close, his head cradled against her breasts.

* * *

He was floating boneless upon the waters of Lake Calenhad ... or was it soaring in the skies above the Bannorn? Something soft, like the touch of a cloud, was brushing against his face. Lifting a hand, he moved to brush it away ... and then opened his eyes to find his wife's face there instead when he felt resistance. He saw her laugh as he jumped a bit in reaction, startled by her closeness. Blinking a moment, he tilted his head and asked, "Are you all right?"

Alfstanna laughed and kissed him lightly against his lips. "I think that is a safe answer, yes," she told him. At his frown, she clarified, "I am more than all right, Alistair."

The king nodded, a sigh of relief easing his concerns away. Her next words, however, had him laughing. "Are you sure you were almost a Templar? I don't believe any of that was part of the formal Templar training ..."

"I was a well educated Templar," he returned with a wink, turning his large frame until he was lying half over her again, leaning over to kiss her bare shoulder once more. "Probably why they hated me so much, come to think of it," he added.

Alfstanna's brow lifted. "I don't think they had books like that in the libraries there." She saw him give her a cheeky grin, his smile reaching his eyes.

"Not the library, no ...," he admitted. "Do I need to remind you that we also traveled with an Antivan during the Blight?" He saw her smile. Of course she remembered. "Yes, well, Zevran was quite ..."

"Liberal minded?"

Alistair's laugh echoed throughout the room. "That certainly is one way of putting it," he agreed in amusement. Wrapping his arm around her tightly, he asked, "Tanna, really ... are you all right? I didn't want to hurt you -"

Alfstanna lifted her hand to his lips to silence him. "I am fine, my love," she whispered. She saw him smile in wonder at that and reached her hand over to caress his cheek. "You are, you know. My love. You have been in my heart for quite a while now."

Alistair felt as if he was drowning in her green gaze. "And you are mine," he agreed. "I never thought I would find anything like ... this, like you. You make me feel complete, my wife."

Alfstanna snuggled against his chest, relishing the warmth and strength of his body lying against hers. "You do the same for me," she told him solemnly. "And because of that, because of  _you_  I can heal."

Alistair wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tightly to his chest while smiling. It was hard to believe that anything good could come out of what they had just been through, but he was beginning to believe ...


	19. Chapter 19

Alistair remained at Redcliffe for a week. During the day, he met with Lysette, toured Redcliffe village and the surrounding environs, and trained with his men. At night, he closed himself into his rooms with his wife, as yet undiscovered by anyone other than Alistair, Lysette or the guards Mickley and Abrams.

During one such evening, some days after his arrival, Alistair leaned back against the headboard, Alfstanna snuggled against him, and murmured, "You know I will have to leave soon and return to Denerim?"

Alfstanna tried to hide her sigh from him, but she knew she had failed when she felt his arms tighten just slightly around her shoulders. "I know," she replied. "No one can know I've been found," she added after a moment, "otherwise you won't find who did it." This time, she felt his grip tighten considerably, and her heart seemed to melt just a little.

The king was the one to sigh this time, and heavily. "I am afraid so," he returned. "But, knowing that you are indeed safe eases my mind to no end." Alistair kissed the crown of her head, his hand rising to gently stroke through the lengths of her dark curls. He felt her arms slide around his mid-section, almost touching on the other side. For some reason, he found this thought mildly amusing, and he could not refrain from a soft chuckle. When Alfstanna looked up at him, he simply leaned over to kiss her lightly. "Sorry," he murmured, "just ... never mind."

Alfstanna watched his lips turn into an embarrassed smile and she grinned back. Instead of pushing the issue, she asked instead, "Where would you like me to be? I don't suppose I could maintain my cover here very well ... too many people would recognize me."

"Funny you should ask that," Alistair began, his voice filled with amusement, "since Lys and I were having that exact discussion today as we toured some of the outlying farmsteads."

The queen smiled and snuggled against his chest. "Really? And what did you decide?"

Though he heard a certain level of sarcasm in her tone, he knew that she was well aware of the situation and the need for secrecy. He also felt a certain sense of satisfaction that she felt comfortable enough to tease him again, like she had before the kidnapping. "Actually, Lys suggested that you might go and visit with her mother."

Alfstanna smiled at that thought. She had lost her mother at a very young age. Over the years, whenever she and her father and brother would visit Highever or even at times in Denerim, Eleanor had taken Alfstanna under her wing, providing her with female guidance and support that she had been missing. When it had become clear that Eleanor had survived Rendon Howe's attack upon Highever and the Blight, Alfstanna had been one of the first to greet the former teyrna. "That would be acceptable," she finally replied after a moment, "though I would much rather be with you."

"All the more incentive to resolve this situation, yes?" Alistair lifted her head with a gentle nudging of her chin. "I will have you back and by my side as soon as it is safe. I promise."

Alfstanna leaned the rest of the way and kissed him. "No place I would rather be," she replied softly.

* * *

The day before he was to leave Redcliffe, Alistair brought Lysette in at Alfstanna's request. "I've remembered something and I wanted to get both your opinions on it," the queen began without preamble. She was seated at the table by the window, though out of visual range of any onlookers outside. Facing her friends while leaning forward, her knees resting upon her legs, she said, "I didn't think much of it at the time, most likely because of the state they had me in. But the older mage, the one who used the combination of spells to keep me from remembering much, I recall that he was not from Ferelden. He had an accent ... a thick one, and it only just occurred to me where he was from."

Lysette and Alistair exchanged a look. "Where, my love?" Alistair asked.

Alfstanna looked up at him. "Nevarra. I'd thought at first he was from Tevinter, but the more I've played it back in my mind since then, the more certain I am that he was Nevarran - his inflection, the structure of his sentences ... The younger mage, the one who helped me, was definitely Ferelden and I would suspect from the Circle Tower at Kinloch Hold. He didn't act like he was an apostate."

Lysette frowned. "Nevarran?" she murmured. "Why would the Nevarrans be involved?"

Alfstanna shrugged. "I wish I knew. The only thing I can recall them discussing concerned me and the prolonged use of magical spells." She shuddered at the memory, until she felt her husband's hand upon her shoulder, squeezing in silent support. She gave him a quick glance and smiled her appreciation. "The younger man was obviously afraid of the other one, he even told me that the other spell the man was using with 'disorient' was nothing that was taught at the Circle."

Lysette shook her head as she thought. "I still don't understand why the mages would launch an organized attack against you both. There's no point to it ... not when you," she nodded at Alistair, "were allowing them more freedoms with the promise of more to come."

Alistair sighed and took a seat at the table with his wife. "Perhaps I didn't move fast enough? Or they think an 'almost Templar' still means Templar?"

Alfstanna shook her head. "I don't think so," she murmured while resting a hand upon the table in his direction and wiggling her fingers to get him to take it in hers. She smiled when he did, not only because he would be willing to show affection in front of their friend, but also because of the warmth and feeling of security it provided. She was feeling a bit chilled from their discussion as it was stirring up memories and thoughts that had not quite healed completely as of yet. "I saw at least three or four rogues when this all happened," she reminded them. "Archers, daggers ... I wouldn't think that if it was mages acting out on their own that they would enlist the aid of mercenaries."

Lysette nodded. "You have a point," she agreed. "But ... who then?"

"That is what Teagan and I will have to determine when I return to Denerim," Alistair replied.

Lysette nodded and moved towards the door. "I wish you luck then. For now, I will go organize my notes so that you have something to take back with you ... perhaps it will help ..."

The door had barely closed before Alfstanna began chuckling. She saw Alistair turn towards her, a look of confusion in his eyes, and she said, "Our friend is not so subtle, is she?"

Alistair's frown deepened as he rose to his feet and moved to pull her up beside him. "How do you mean?" he asked.

The queen smirked, her amusement doubled by the fact that her husband still had such naive qualities about him. "Lys has had those reports completed for days, Alistair!" she murmured, running her hand up his chest and loosening the tie to his tunic. "She used that as an excuse to ... leave us alone for the night ..." She saw his face redden slightly, could see that he struggled against it while trying to loosen the ties to her clothing as well.

"You women," he murmured as he lowered his head to hers to steal a kiss, "are so  _evil_  sometimes ..."

Alfstanna grinned, moving her arms to twine around his neck and play with the hair at the base of his neck. "Sometimes it is necessary," she replied, her voice catching as his hands slid beneath her tunic to remove it. She took a step backwards as he lifted it over head, and then watched as he removed his own before reaching to pull her against his chest. "And sometimes," she continued, her hands lifting to trace the muscles across his chest and shoulders, "it can be ... a  _lot_  of fun ..."

Alistair's breath caught as her fingers continued to roam across him, her nails lightly scraping the skin, tugging at the scattering of chest hair, lightly catching against some of his scars there, but he was proud of the fact that his surprise at her move (for this was the first time she had taken the initiative in their intimacy) had not resulted in a yelp. Alistair lifted her into his arms and turned towards their bed, carrying her over and setting her upon the mattress. "You are a saucy minx," he growled as he bent over her, felt her hands still playing with his chest.

Alfstanna's smile was wanton, she was sure, but she knew it would be a while before she would see him again, and she didn't want to let the opportunity to further their relationship - in  _all_ ways - to pass by. Sliding a hand to his shoulder and pulling him forward, she purred, "Why don't you let me show you just how saucy, your Majesty ..."


	20. Chapter 20

As occupations went, Neely supposed that being stable master for the King of Ferelden would be near the top of the list. She had the opportunity to work with some of the best animals in the entire country, as well as the widest variety. The grooms she worked with were better trained than most, one or two of them, she supposed, even had the potential to take over positions as stable masters some day for the nobility, even perhaps her position if she ever chose to move on.

She had been born in Redcliffe where her parents had been employed by the Arl. As she had grown, she had discovered a knack for working with horses, particularly the stubborn ones, and by the age of ten she had maneuvered her way onto the Arl's staff in his stables, beginning as a stablehand and working her way up through the ranks until she was the stable master. When the Blight had come upon them, and the Wardens, including the future King Alistair, had assisted Redcliffe in their own struggles; in return the men and women of the village had assisted them, Neely being one of them. Though not involved in the battle itself, she had cared for the Arl's horses along the way. After the battle, when calm finally returned and the country began to rebuild itself, Neely had met the king without even realizing it.

Within days of the defeat of the archdemon, the capital city still in a state of chaos and confusion, the king had sought his way down to the stables. Neely had been there, for lack of any better place to be, when he had arrived. She recognized him immediately, and noted at the time that he had been troubled. She soon found the reason: the other Warden, the woman, had left and no one knew where she was to be found. The king was simply checking the stables to see if she had taken one of the mounts located there. After a brief discussion, the king had lifted his head, glanced sharply at her and asked, "Are you returning to Redcliffe, Master Neely?"

Neely had been surprised, but her reaction was instinctual. "Your Majesty, I have no idea what I will be doing. With Arl Eamon now as your chancellor, for all I know I may be out of a position."

It was at that time, as a mixed smile of comprehension, acknowledgement and inspiration crossed his face that Neely realized this man would make a formidable king. "Well, my friend, rest assured that you need not fear for you shall be the royal stable master. That would be satisfactory to you, yes?"

Her eyes had grown large, and she saw him grin at her, at her response, as she nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely, your Majesty!" she replied with her own grin.

Though the position was the same as it had been at Redcliffe, Neely had discovered within a short time that she now had additional duties. She had a slightly larger staff than before, now two grooms and an additional three stablehands, to assist. Upon occasion, the king had approached her, requesting riding lessons, assistance with information regarding the purchase of horses, and even to seek out her opinion on the outrider stations he was wanting to establish across the country. All of these she had responded to willingly, truthfully and with an open, honest and straightforward assessment that the king seemed to appreciate.

Perhaps the one event that had told the young woman just how much the king respected her and her opinions had occurred just months before when he had asked her to suggest a steed for Bann Alfstanna. The circle of knowledgeable equestriennes in the country of Ferelden was small indeed, so Neely was well aware of the Bann and her breadth of knowledge regarding numerous breeds from around all of Thedas. After giving the question much thought, and asking further questions of the king, she had recommended the Antivan Paso. From that moment forward, she had sought out the best bred stallion she could find. When, weeks later, she had seen the animal and his new master meet for the first time, she had felt a sense of complete satisfaction that warmed her to her soul. The pairing of humans to beasts was not always easy, but this time had been one of the easiest she had ever accomplished.

The day of the wedding, after greeting the newly married couple outside the chantry, Neely had returned to her rooms above the stables. She had been there, some hours later, when she had heard the noise and commotion outside. Hurrying down to the doors, she found some of the palace guards seeking entrance. They questioned her, asking if she had heard of or noticed any disturbances over the past few hours, seen anyone or heard any other indication of anyone removing the queen from the city. Neely had been stunned at their news, and almost ashamed that her response was in the negative. She had heard and seen nothing, and there had been no indication of any disturbance to the animals in their stalls, or she would surely have noticed.

When the king had approached the stables the following morning, Neely knew instinctively how to help him. Granted, she had been a bit pushy perhaps, but she had asked his assistance with giving the animals their treats for the day. She understood, given the events of the previous evening, that he was seeking out something familiar, something that would connect him to his wife. Neely knew that, if he was at the stables, that something would be Piceron. After their discussion, and his departure, Neely had taken to caring for Piceron herself instead of assigning him to one of her grooms. Occasionally she would take the stallion out and work him on his paces or ride him in the large ring they had adjoining the stable area, and other times she would bring him treats, groom him, or simply talk to him.

The king had alerted her to the possibility of the queen's brother searching out the stables. Neely had heard of the poor man's reaction to the attack and disappearance of his sister. She was not surprised that he, like the king, would seek out a familiar connection to help him through this time.

The first time that Irminric had entered the stables, Neely had found him accompanied by the healing mage Petra. With a smile and a greeting of welcome, she had led the two to Piceron's stall and, after reintroducing the stallion to the ex-Templar, she had stepped aside with the mage, discussing first the man's condition, anything she should be aware of or watch out for, and then suggesting to the woman (who looked for all the world afraid to be where she was) that she return to the palace and have the afternoon to herself. Neely then delegated her assignments for the remainder of the day to her assistants and spent that afternoon with Irminric and Piceron. Though the stallion remained in the stall, Neely found that Irminric's involvement with the animal, his assistance in feeding him (for as she had done with the king, she had encouraged Irminric to feed Piceron his treats, even assist with the grooming) and such seemed to ease the man's mind somewhat. By the time Neely walked him back to the palace, he seemed to be in slightly better spirits than he had at their initial meeting that afternoon.

Over the following weeks, Irminric began to visit the stables on a regular basis; always willing to assist with whatever chores involving Piceron were needed, even going so far as to ride the stallion in the ring outdoors. Each visit showed a marked improvement, at least to Neely, in the man's frame of mind, to the point that he was soon managing to put Piceron into the cross ties for saddling or grooming on his own.

However, on this day, Neely was pulled out of her routine as her expected visit did not occur. When it became clear that Irminric would not show, Neely moved to take over the duties of caring for Piceron, and soon had him settled for the day. As the grooms departed for the evening meal, Neely closed up the stables and climbed to her rooms, frowning slightly and wondering if all was well with her friend.

She was seated at her little table in the small kitchen above the stables and eating her evening meal when she heard a knock at the door to her rooms. Rising quickly (for it was very rare for someone to seek her out here of all places), she answered the summons, to find Irminric on the other side of the portal. "My lord!" Neely gasped upon seeing him standing there. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed a change in his behavior, an excitement that had not been there for these past weeks. "Is something wrong, my lord? Are you well?" she asked as she gestured him inside of the apartment.

She saw a light in his eyes, a particular flame that had not been there before, and as he began to respond to her question, she could see that spark move throughout his countenance. "My friend!" he greeted her. "I had to come, I hope you don't mind?"

"No," Neely replied, gesturing over towards the chairs at the table. They were the only chairs in her little place, but they were serviceable enough. She removed the remnants of her meal and settled a pot of water upon the stove to boil so that she could make them some tea. "I do not mind at all, my lord," she replied while taking a seat near him.

Neely watched as a full fledged grin seemed to transform him. "I had to come tell you," he continued to explain. "Though it cannot be made public yet, and I trust you will keep that secret for me, my dear?"

Neely felt as if her head was spinning, as she tried to sort out what he was saying. "I promise," she assured him quickly.

She was surprised when he reached out and grasped her work-roughened and calloused hands in his own. "She is safe!" he whispered buoyantly. "The king just told me ... Alfstanna! She's safe!"

Neely blinked a few times as she tried to sort out his words and his enthusiasm, but immediately smiled. "Oh, thank the Maker!" she breathed, squeezing his hands back. "Has she returned? Is she at the palace?" she asked.

Neely watched as Irminric shook his head. His voice still quiet as he spoke. "Not yet," he admitted, his eyes saddening just a bit, "but the king has seen her. He says she is safe, that she made it out on her own."

With one more squeeze to the man's hands, she rose to make their tea. When she returned to the table a few moments later, she murmured, "I've gotten to know your sister quite well over the past few months. She strikes me as a someone who is strong, capable and able to do what needs to be done in order to survive." She handed him a cup of the hot drink and added, "I am certain she will be just fine, just as I am certain that there are valid reasons for her not returning at this moment in time."

She watched him sip at the drink, nodding as he did so. "There are, though I do not wish to get into details."

Neely noted his look turn apologetic. Taking a sip of her own, she shook her head. "No apologies needed," she assured him. "Knowing she is safe is good news indeed, and knowing that it eases your mind is even better. Don't you agree?"

Neely looked up at the Bann to find him smiling. "It certainly eases my mind, yes," he agreed easily, "as you have tried to do for these past weeks since this whole incident began." She watched as he reached out for her hand, allowing him to take it in his. "You have helped me in many ways, my friend," he told her sincerely, "and for that I am truly grateful."

Neely squeezed his hand and told him, "I did nothing more than offer you a distraction, my lord," she told him. She saw him tilt his head to the side as if evaluating what she was saying.

When she would have continued speaking, she felt his hand tighten just slightly against hers, capturing her attention enough to keep her silent. "You have done much more than offer a mere distraction," he told her. "Do not think I have not noticed how you would drop your duties to be with me or to help me care for Piceron. I know your first concerns are the animals, but -"

Neely shook her head. "No. Well, yes I suppose, that is accurate, but my lord, you have to understand -"

"Call me Irminric, or even just Ric, please."

Neely blinked. The thought of referring to a bann by his given name was enough out of the ordinary for her that it threw her concentration off. "I ... erm, yes, all right?" She knew she sounded a bit hesitant, but for Maker's sake, what did he expect? Lifting her other hand to the bridge of her nose, she pressed it enough to help her focus. "Ric," she saw him smile as she stumbled over the name, the unfamiliarity of it tripping her up just slightly, "please understand, what I have done has been for you and for Piceron. The queen is a fascinating woman, and she and I have developed a ... mutual respect for each other. As much as I care about her, and have worried for her safe return, I also knew that she would be concerned about Piceron ... and you." She smiled at him. "She has spoken of you on several occasions, my lo - Ric," she heard him chuckle softly as she corrected herself, and she could not help but blush slightly, "and I know it would ease her mind greatly if she knew you were safe and well."

"Well," she heard him reply as he released her hand, "between yourself and Petra, you have certainly seen to that. Though I have no doubt that Alfstanna will be very appreciative upon her return, I am on my own account as well."

They sat silently for a short time, each to their own thoughts until Neely noticed Irminric rise to his feet, setting his drink to the side. She noted the exhaustion in his features then and began to wonder if he had overexerted himself with the excitement and import of the news. His next words seemed to confirm that. "Master Neely, I do thank you, for all that you have done and for your ... indulgence this evening, but I am afraid I must return to my rooms and get some rest."

Neely rose to stand beside him. "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to come and speak with me," she returned. With a smile, she walked with him across the room towards the door. "Are you in need of an ... escort back to the palace?" she asked, recalling several instances in the past weeks where she had done just that to be sure he returned safely.

She was looking up at him as she asked her question and was able to see the smile of appreciation that crossed his face before his eyes lit up. She smiled back at him as he replied, "I would be delighted, dear lady."

Neely closed the door behind them as they descended the stairs to the ground level. When she stepped down after him, she looped her arm through his and he began leading her out of the stables in the direction of the palace. They talked softly, of inconsequential things, and when they arrived at the palace, as she had done in the past, Neely entered the building with him and followed to his apartments. She watched him open the door and as he turned to enter, she released his arm. "Thank you for your visit, my lord," she told him with a smile, speaking just loud enough and in the same manner she habitually used with him so that should anyone around them be listening in, it would not seem out of the ordinary.

She saw him turn back to face her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently. Then she caught a look in his eyes that she was a bit unprepared for: a sudden awareness, an intensity that almost made her blush (and she was not one used to blushing). She opened her mouth to speak, when he lifted her hand, turning her arm the slightest bit so that he could touch his lips to her inner wrist in a move that was as sweet as it was unexpected, Neely felt her breath catch in her lungs. "My ... my lord, are you ailing?" she finally managed, her gaze never leaving his.

She saw a spark of emotion flare in his eyes, the smile that she saw was more than just a gift of friendship ... it was a promise, a hope for the future ... certainly something she wasn't expecting, but also was not necessarily opposed to. "I suspect, my dear," she heard him murmur softly, "that I have most definitely taken a turn for the better."


	21. Chapter 21

Alistair arrived at Teagan's office early, wanting to have time to discuss their planned goals and how they were to be achieved before the interview process began. He left his guards outside the door to the office, and entered the room to find Teagan, Lady Violette and Michael Perth already assembled. "Good morning," he greeted them, crossing to the side table to retrieve a cup of tea before joining them at the table. When finally he did take a seat, he added, "So what is the plan for today?"

Teagan gestured for Violette to pass a piece of parchment to the king. "Over the next week or two we will be interviewing several individuals, all of whom have been 'suggested' as participants or somehow involved with the queen's disappearance."

Alistair glanced at the list that Ser Perth handed him before raising his gaze back to Teagan. "You can't honestly be serious!" he declared, lowering the parchment to the table. "Teagan, there is no reason  _any_  of these people should have been involved!"

Teagan nodded, gesturing that the king should calm down. "Yes, your Majesty," he returned, "I understand that. However, the suggestions have been made by other individuals, and they cannot be overlooked simply because we do not like the idea that friends could be involved."

Alistair sat back in his chair and sighed heavily. Teagan was right, he knew that. He supposed that what irritated him about all of this was the fact that someone was going to such lengths to make it look like these people, some of them associates others even closer, look guilty. He took a moment longer and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Right ... you are right, I understand that," he replied at length. "What is the plan then?"

Teagan glanced at Violette and nodded for her to take up the next portion of the meeting. "Your Majesty, we have these individuals scheduled for less informal methods of ... interrogation, if you will. As Arl Teagan mentioned," she continued, "our belief is that there is no connection between them and the queen's disappearance, but we must follow through. It is clear that those who are behind this are behind this tactic. For whatever reason, they do not appear to care that their efforts are so blatant that we know it either. But, if we even act as if we do not believe them, we lose the opportunity to buy the time we need for the rest of the investigation team -"

Alistair nodded. "Lysette and her men?"

Violette nodded. "Yes. We must give them time to continue their lines of investigation."

Ser Perth sat forward then and continued. "Your Majesty, I have spoken with Givens, and we both believe that, even though this is an obvious ruse, we should increase your security as well. From here on out, you will have six men with you at all times, and the number of guards posted outside your rooms at night as well." Michael saw the king beginning to protest and lifted his hand for silence. "Your Majesty, think about it: if we were to  _not_ do this, it would be found out, whomever our opponent is would realize this and it would signal that we know what is going on."

Teagan spoke up again. "Alistair, think of it this way: this is a game, "the grand game," like Leliana has described is played in Orlais so often. For now we must play this game according to their rules, but our patience will give us the time to turn the table so that we can play it according to our own in the end."

Reluctantly, Alistair nodded. "I do believe I've told Leliana I hate playing games," he muttered after a short while. He was not surprised when the others chuckled softly, which was the reaction he had hoped for. It certainly was not his intention to make the process more difficult, but Maker's blood, he hated these political machinations and manipulations!

* * *

It was a short time later that a loud, protesting voice could be heard just outside the door to the room. "Andraste's sweet ass! Do you even  _know_  who I am shem? Do you understand my presence was requested? Is this how you treat all the other banns from across Ferelden?"

Exchanging a telling look with Alistair, Teagan quickly crossed the room and opened the door, clearing his throat just loud enough to get the guard's attention and gesturing him to move away from the area and the abuse. "Good morning, Bann Shianni," the Arl of Redcliffe greeted her. "And how are you on this fine day?" He hid a smirk as he watched Shianni growl at the retreating figure of the guard, her petite frame seeming twice its normal size as she released her irritation for all to behold.

Alistair, who had moved near the doorway as well, stood off to the side so he could watch the exchange as Shianni let the Arl know in no uncertain terms just how she fared. He had gotten to know the spirited elf quite well in the months following the Blight as she took on her duties as Bann of the Denerim Alienage and as such, serving on the council he had created consisting of representatives of the capital city. Now, as he noticed Teagan's politeness seemed only to irritate the woman all the more, the king decided it was time for him to enter the discussion. Stepping forward, he interjected, "Bann Shianni, I thank you for taking the time out of your very busy schedule to assist us with the investigation into the queen's disappearance."

"Yes, well, you might have a painter cast the likenesses of all the Banns and Arls so you can train your guards on important guests of the crown. Or better yet, get better guards," she returned as she pushed by the remaining guards and entered the room. It was all Alistair could do to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. One of the things he always had admired about the elven woman was her mixture of spunk and outspokenness. Pointedly looking away from Teagan (for he knew that the man's reaction would cause him to laugh aloud), the king closed the door and turned back into the room.

Ser Michael Perth stepped forward as Bann Shianni approached the table where they would conduct their interview. Having been briefed by Violette prior to this meeting on the bann's personal background, the insufferable treatment she had received at the hands of the (current) Arl of Denerim which, he was surprised to discover, seemed to be taken as standard procedure in the capital city, he had determined to remain in the background as much as possible so as not to unduly upset her or make her uncomfortable. However, those things aside, from a very young age, Michael had been ingrained with an overabundant supply of manners, and this was what kicked in at that moment. When he pulled the chair for Bann Shianni so that she could sit, he could see the innate sense of wariness and dislike of him as a human and a man, but he also saw a flash of surprise ... so quick that he almost missed it. With a genuine smile of welcome, he murmured a greeting of, "My lady," as he pushed the chair beneath her. His smile widened just slightly as he saw her blush just a bit, and then finally manage a small nod. He then took a step back from the table, positioning himself behind Violette's chair, but within reach and hearing distance should his presence be required.

Violette had determined their seating arrangements ahead of time, explaining to Teagan that, as Bann of the Alienage, Shianni and Alfstanna had spent much time together. Alfstanna had taken the young elf under her wing and offered her suggestions and advice, an arrangement that Shianni had accepted. Many an afternoon when Alfstanna had been in Denerim, the two women would meet at the estate of the Waking Sea, sharing tea and scones or a meal and hours of discussion, humor and friendship. Violette herself had been in attendance at most of those meetings, either in an official capacity or, upon rare occasions, a casual one. Knowing of Shianni's past, Violette had therefore arranged the seating for today's meeting so that the elf leader was sitting in between Violette and the king, with Arl Teagan on the other side of Violette. "Bann Shianni, thank you for joining us," Violette greeted the woman. "As I am sure you understand, we are working on the investigation into the disappearance of Queen Alfstanna."

Shianni nodded. "I know this isn't a social visit," she replied, "which tells me that somebody is saying the elves are behind it." She saw Violette move her head in affirmation. "Maferath's horny helm, Violette," she exclaimed, "tell me you don't believe this! You  _know_  we are supportive of the king and queen!"

Teagan sat back watching the process as Violette and then Alistair reassured the bann that they were simply following up on leads they had been given, and that all leads had to be looked into. It took some convincing, but he was relieved to see the woman nod in understanding. He saw her look over at him once or twice, and though there was a tension between them (he knew its source) by the end of their meeting he sensed that the wall between them was falling. Leaning forward, he finally spoke directly to Shianni. "Bann Shianni, you perhaps more than anyone else other than the king, knew her best on a personal level. You were speaking to her right before she disappeared. Can you think of anything, big or small, that might give us a clue as to who might be behind this?"

Shianni opened her mouth to retort almost immediately, but whether a credit to her training from Alfstanna or to her simply thinking the better of it, she paused ... and reflected back to the events of that day. After describing her discussions with Bann Irminric, and Alfstanna's arrival upon the arm of Bann Sighard, she concluded, "Something happened ... I don't know what," she glanced over at the king and nodded slightly, "but I think he sensed the mages, and I think the queen knew this." Shianni turned back to Violette. "Bann Irminric shoved the queen out of the way, and I was able to keep her from falling ... the last thing she told me was to go and get some guards. When we came back, she was gone and Bann Irminric was lying on the floor."

As Shianni's frustration grew, she began running a hand through her hair. She turned towards Alistair and told him, "I promise you, Alistair, we had  _nothing_  to do with this! Why would we? You've done more to help us in the short time you've been king than anyone before!"

Alistair nodded. "I know that," he told her, "but you know we must explore every possibility."

"Maker's bearded balls!" the elf finally cried, rising to her feet, her chair pushed back in the process. "Why do you shem never seem to understand -"

Violette waved off Michael as he began to step forward and rose to face the bann. "Shianni, stop! Please! You know we are simply doing what we must! We did not ask you here to accuse, we hoped you might be able to offer suggestions that would lead to something more substantial!"

"What would I know?" Shianni demanded angrily. "Whenever we have council meetings it's all I can do simply to be heard over the criticisms of people like Arl Vaughan or his cronies! If you're looking for a source of trouble, start with him if for no other reason than he is a raping bastard who  _still_  tries to use the alienage as his own personal brothel!"

The room went silent, the air very still, as her words settled upon them all. Alistair, anger as strong and thick as the taint had once been now surging through him, demanded, " _Still?_ "

If she could have, Shianni's eyes would have been shooting flames, as angry and fierce as she was at that moment. "Oh, the City Guards stopped him in time, but only  _after_  he and his friends had forced two young women to leave with them. Valendrian and I were brought into it after the fact."

Teagan was rapidly writing down this information - he knew Vaughan to be a foul, loathsome creature, but to blatantly ignore the king's order ... He frowned.  _Why ... other than to feed his own perverse pleasures, would he go against the king so openly?_  A thought struck him then. "Bann Shianni? Are there ... other noblemen who try to do the same? Friends of the Arl or not? Or anyone else ...?"

Shianni listed three other minor nobles. All were close friends of Vaughan. "No one else has been mentioned ... or caught at least," she added.

Slowly, carefully, Teagan rose and rounded the table until he and the bann were face to face. "Shianni, please, I need your assistance." He saw her nod, surprise at his informality clear in her eyes. "I need you and your fellow elves to keep track of anyone who tries to do this. It is a direct violation of the king's order, and as such will not be tolerated."

"I - yes," she agreed, nodding, "we can do that."

"I need your judgment ... do you feel that a permanent watch made up of the city guard should be posted? So that there will be someone on hand should you -"

"No." Her refusal was immediate and adamant. "We have only just opened the doors for the alienage," she told him. "To put up a permanent watch - at the gates or inside of the alienage itself, even if their only goal was to help protect us, might be seen as yet another way of trying to imprison us."

Teagan and Alistair shared a look, but both nodded. "Should conditions change," Teagan added, "let us know. We must take any and all measures to keep your people safe."

Shianni agreed to that and, another question or two, she was allowed to depart the room. Alistair rose and followed with her to the doorway, telling her privately before the door opened, "Shianni, I promise ... it  _will_  stop!"

He watched her look up at him, sorrow in her eyes as she said, "In order for it truly to stop, your Majesty, it is the  _humans_  who must change, not the condition of the elves. I know you are doing your best, and your intentions are in the right place. But until the nobility understands that we are not their own personal playground ..." Without another word, she opened the door and left the room.

Alistair felt Teagan at his shoulder before he turned towards the older man. "Damn it, Teagan, what aren't we doing?"

Teagan placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I'm afraid she is right, Alistair. It is up to all of us to make the changes." Then with a heavy sigh, he added, "Why don't we go somewhere more comfortable to have lunch? Hmm? Less closed in? I don't know about you, but these four walls are about to make me mad!"

Alistair chuckled. "I understand the feeling," he replied. "How about my office? At least it has the wall of windows that gives the impression of being more open."

Violette watched the two men leave the room as she straightened the chairs at the table. She smiled softly when she saw Michael step forward to assist. "Would you like to join me for lunch today, my lady?" he asked her in his usual manner.

Violette smiled at him. "What did you have in mind?"

"The Gnawed Noble, of course," he replied, walking to her side and waiting for her to take his arm. They had lunched together often enough that she knew he always took his meals at Cyril's establishment. "I believe today they have Kayleigh's shepherd's pie, and Cyril mentioned something about a newly finished ale he had ready for tasting."

Violette's smile widened as she exited the room and walked down the hall with him. "That sounds lovely," she told him. "And somehow, I don't think that Cyril will be surprised at all by our presence."

Michael chuckled. "Not at all, my lady," he assured her. "He seems to be as taken with you as a wolf in amongst a herd of sheep."

"Mmmm," she replied with a teasing grin, "that is high praise indeed from one such as he! We'd best not keep him waiting then!"


	22. Chapter 22

The dimly lit skies of early evening were giving way to the deep darkness of night along the back alleys of Denerim when the sounds of stumbling footsteps, soft grunts of annoyance and hushed whispers became more prevalent. "Can't you be quieter?"

"Don't you think I'm trying to be?" a second voice responded raspily. "I'm not a bloody rogue, you know!"

"No, it's quite clear that your wife has the corner on that market, I think!"

There was a short respite, the cooling air devoid of voices, though occasional muffled clanks and clangs of armor could be heard - the only indication that anyone was about at this hour. At one point, a deep, dull and slightly metallic sounding thud caused all sound around them to stop. "What was  _that_?"

"My foot, that's what!"

"Maker's arse, be quiet then! You'll scare them away before we meet them!"

"Me? I'm the one who is supposed to be meeting them in the first place!" There was another dull thunk. "Andraste's tits! Can't you -"

"'Andraste's tits?'" A voice sounding suspiciously like a deep chuckle queried. "What would your wife say if she could hear you -"

"If Lys  _ever_  finds out about this she'll kill me, and you bloody well know it!"

Another snort of laughter and then a more sobering tone as the second voice responded, "Who do you think you're kidding? If your wife ever finds out, she and Tanna will have  _my_  hide … and I'm the king!"

Another turn, a back alley later, and Teagan threw his arm out to keep Alistair from stumbling into a darkened open square filled with darker shadows. "Wait here," Teagan hissed sharply, knowing his words reached the king as he felt the younger man's frame move into a defensive position. Though he did not reach for his weapon, Teagan could sense the aura of change around him. Satisfied that his liege would be safe for the moment, Teagan slowly approached the rendez-vous point.

Alistair remained at his watch position, ready to jump in if necessary should Teagan need assistance. However, as the two had agreed beforehand, this was Teagan's "operation" to run, and Alistair was to remain in the background. He noticed the informant show up at last out of the darkness … or perhaps more appropriately, if one evaluated the man's tattered clothing, ill-kempt appearance and unhygienic odor (how  _could_  Teagan stand being so close to him?), from the gutter. The king scanned the surrounding area, his eyes falling back to patterns of watch and surveillance that had become routine during the Blight as easily as if he'd done it the day before.

In the distance, he heard the tolling of the chantry bell indicating that the late hour had topped out. The next one, he sincerely hoped, they would be well on their way back to the palace, or at least the Arl's estate, to change out of the uncomfortable guard's armor they had borrowed and opening a bottle of brandy to celebrate. A movement caught the king's attention, but when he focused in on it he realized that it was the informant handing something to Teagan. Barely a blink after the exchange, Teagan had turned and was walking back towards him. The look on his face was more than enough to convince Alistair to hold his questions until a later time.

They left in silence, without incident (though Alistair remained on guard. He was not disillusioned - he might be king and have made changes, but these still were the back alleys of Denerim), and he allowed Teagan to determine their destination. It became apparent after a short time that he was leading them to the Redcliffe estate.

Though not exactly quiet, their arrival went more or less unnoticed, most of the guards having been given altered shifts so that there would be the bare minimum of questions when the two men had left. As they ascended the hallway, Teagan told Alistair, "Go change and meet me in the study. We need to talk."

Alistair nodded and turned towards the left leading to the room that Lys and Teagan always had ready should the king decide to remain at the estate after a late dinner, a party, or simply to have as a place of escape. Though he had not abused the arrangement, Alistair had used it upon occasion, such as earlier this evening when they had prepared for their adventure.

After washing up quickly and changing into comfortable breeches and a tunic in a deep forest green (he smiled as he slid the garment over his head, thinking of the color of his wife's eyes), he departed the room to find Ser Perth outside his door. Startled, the king asked, "Teagan summoned you?"

Michael greeted his king in a formal manner and replied, "Yes, your Majesty. Violette is with him in the study." He saw the king's eyebrow raise at this, and Michael felt himself battling against embarrassment. "We … we were having a meal at the Gnawed Noble," he explained. When he saw the king was not buying into his story, he sighed, glanced away and gestured for the king to precede him. "This way, your Majesty."

Alistair almost laughed … but realized that Michael Perth was well aware of the fact that the king knew his way around the estate. Instead, he simply grinned and turned in the direction the knight indicated. A few moments later, as he entered the study, he found Teagan and Violette standing near the hearth. Though he said nothing, he did note that the young woman appeared to be less fastidious in her appearance this evening than she normally was during the day: her dress was not as severe and practical, but had a softer look to it and her hair, which she usually kept back in a wound up plait at the base of her neck she now wore partially loose with the sides drawn back into a single, thin braid that rested upon the curtain of caramel colored curls. Alistair knew he was no expert at relationships, but it was clear even to him that the call to their partners in this investigation had interrupted an evening the two had clearly taken for themselves.

Teagan glanced up then. "Ah, good. I was just relating to Lady Violette the nature of our … adventures this evening," he saw Alistair wince and heard the king's soft groan and grinned. "I have sworn her to secrecy, your Majesty," he added, recalling their conversation in the back alleys, "as I have Ser Perth."

Alistair chuckled. Glancing back at the knight, he commented, "It's not often you have a hold over your king, ser knight. I suggest you use your power … wisely." He saw the man's startled appearance at that, but refrained from teasing him again. "So, Teagan," he continued on instead, "since you wouldn't tell me on our return, where do we stand? Did this …," Alistair thought back to the man's name, "Lenny the Rat, give you anything useful?"

Teagan reached into a pouch at his belt and retrieved an item. Opening his hand for all to see, he displayed a folded piece of parchment. It was clear that the outer seal belonged to Chancellor Eamon Guerrin. Teagan held Alistair's gaze as he handed him the document. As the king reached for it, albeit hesitantly, he announced, "My source said his 'employer' received this in the month before the wedding."

Alistair only vaguely heard Teagan's voice as he was already reading the missive. It was short, sweet, and to the point … and he felt his stomach drop to his feet. A moment later, he felt Violette taking the document from him, her hand squeezing his gently in sympathy as she did so.

 _How could he?_  Alistair wondered, his eyes lifting to catch Teagan's again.  _How could he do this to me, to his own brother?_  "Surely, this can't be!" he finally managed.

Teagan shook his head. "I don't know, Alistair," he replied, his own shock at the revelation so great that he fell into the informality quite easily. "I don't know what to think."

Violette handed the parchment to Ser Perth then. "It seems to me," she announced softly, "that there is a chance this could be falsely planted information." She watched both men turn towards her then, their attentions upon her for whatever suggestions he might have. When she noted that Michael had finished reading the missive, she retrieved it, folded it, and held onto it. "There will be many amongst the nobility who will not want to believe that Eamon, let alone the king's chancellor, is involved in something like this. On the other hand, given the past and what happened with Isolde," she saw Teagan wince at that, "there will be some who will think he has gone senile or perhaps simply lost his care for anyone or anything."

Teagan sighed and nodded. "Yes," he agreed, "I can see that happening all too easily."

"We have to question him," Alistair added reluctantly. "He has to know that the suggestion is out there."

Again, Teagan nodded. "I am not looking forward to this," he stated plainly. "Maker's breath, to accuse my own brother of such treason …."

"And how will we even know if he's telling the truth?" The king gave Teagan an apologetic look. "He means a great deal to me too, Teagan, but we have to consider that, given this message, he could somehow be involved … but would he openly admit it?"

Before any further comment could be made, Michael interjected, "I think I know a way in which we can guarantee his cooperation."

Violette looked up at the knight, her eyes looking deep into his … and suddenly she knew. With a smile, she replied softly, "That is a brilliant idea."

Michael blushed slightly, still a bit unnerved at how she seemed to read his mind at times, yet understanding that she had the right of it. "Your Majesty, I suggest that we send a messenger to Kinloch Hold … to bring Connor to Denerim. Given the strong nature of their relationship, Chancellor Eamon, I think, would be more inclined to be truthful if his son was present during his questioning. In the time we must wait on his arrival, we can increase surveillance of his activities under the guise of increased security measures ..."

* * *

Hours later, as it neared dawn, Violette stirred and slipped her arm around his waist and pull him close. "You were brilliant this evening, cheri," she murmured near his ear.

Michael chuckled, drawing her closer as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "It was simply a logical deduction, my dear," he told her softly, "but if it impresses you tat much …."

Violette giggled softly. "It does," she teased. She then leaned her head against his shoulder and turned more serious. "I am concerned for the king and Arl Teagan," she admitted. "We will have to be very strong for them. The thought of a brother or foster father betraying one to this degree can be heartbreaking."

Michael tightened his arm around her. "I know. I hope that the presence of Connor makes things easier."

"Hmmm," she responded. "I as well. But, I must admit that I agree with the king. This seems incredibly difficult to believe! Why would the chancellor throw away the only thing he has left to align himself with a foreign power? He is too old for the throne, not that he has ever wanted it for himself!"

"The world is filled with strange and unanswerable riddles, dearest," he told her. "We shall have to be patient and wait and see what the chancellor has to say when confronted with the accusation."


	23. Chapter 23

In the weeks following her husband's departure, Alfstanna remained "hidden" in her rooms. Lysette would come and visit as often as she could, and the two guards who had been assigned to her, Mickley and Styles, did what they could to assist her in any way that they could. Alfstanna availed herself of the books in Teagan's collection, with assistance from Lysette who could often be seen carrying stacks to her rooms several times a week; she wrote the details of her experiences down so that important details could not be forgotten; and quite often she found herself staring out her window at Lake Calenhad, thinking deeply, remembering, … healing.

By the time that six weeks had passed since Alistair's departure, Alfstanna finally reached her limit. She sent a message to Lysette via Mickley that she wished to see her friend immediately.

When Lysette arrived at Alfstanna's room a short while later, she found the queen pacing back and forth in the sitting room, a grim determination set upon her features.  _And so it begins,_  Lysette thought. She had wondered just how long it would take for the feeling of incarceration, the sheer boredom of not having anything productive to do, to set in upon her friend. "You do realize that if you wear a hole in my carpet I will ask you to replace it. It's a rather nice one too, all the way from Antiva."

Alfstanna growled for a moment, her eyes glaring at her friend as she came to a stop. Before she could say a word, however, Lysette added, "Ah, yes … you have that great queenly look and attitude down very well, my friend. Should I be quaking in my boots?"

Alfstanna felt her anger, frustration and antsiness depart from her like air from a deflated balloon. "You are bloody impossible!" she muttered.

Lysette giggled and stepped forward into the room. "Yes, I recall you saying that on many an occasion over the years!" she returned with a grin. Reaching for her friend's hand, she led her to the nearby settle. "I have an idea that I would like to share with you … one that should help you with your current … situation?"

The queen frowned. "Situation?"

"Boredom."

"Ah." Alfstanna sighed heavily.  _Yes, I suppose Lys would be able to recognize that._  "What is this idea?"

"Well," Lysette began softly, "I think you would benefit from some … fresh air perhaps?" Alfstanna's eyes turned to lock onto hers and Lysette grinned. "I would humbly suggest -"

"Humbly? Since when have you ever learned humility?"

"Hey, I have grown since that last time we tried to -"

"That was only a matter of five years ago! You haven't grown  _that_  much," Alfstanna teased, recalling back to the last visit the two women had shared well before the Blight had begun.

With a soft sigh simply to irritate her friend, Lysette said, "What would you say to a journey? I have some leathers that should fit you. We'll disguise you as best we can, and you and I shall set off for Highever to visit Fergus, Leliana and ... my mother. We might even be able to get Rory to visit so he can discuss with you the running of Waking Sea in your brother's absence."

"And how do you plan to … disguise me?" Alfstanna queried.

Lysette's smile widened. "Oh, I have something particular in mind …."

* * *

It took them three days to put their plan into action, but by the evening of the third they were ready to depart. After dressing Alfstanna in the leathers of one of Highever's men, braiding her hair back in a manner the queen had never worn before, having her don a leather helm as well and using some light cosmetics to alter her appearance so that she wouldn't be readily recognizable at least in the darkening sunlight, the two women set off. Their cover story was simple enough: Arlessa Lysette, whom all across the country would know was searching for the queen, was being escorted by one of the Highever guards and one of the Redcliffe guards (Mickley) to Highever to confer with her brother. The trip took about a week by road, and they made it without incident. Upon their arrival, Fergus directed them to the private apartments which, as suggested by Lysette in a communication in the weeks preceding their visit, were "quarantined" due to a "contagious illness" that Eleanor Cousland was suffering.

Lysette entered her mother's rooms first, Alfstanna beside her. "Mother!" she greeted with a warm hug.

Eleanor smiled and returned the affection. "My darling girl!" She then turned towards Alfstanna. "And to you, your Majesty," Eleanor said in a much softer, but completely sincere voice.

Alfstanna removed her helm and stepped forward to embrace the woman who in many ways had been like a second mother to her in her younger years. "Eleanor, how good to see you!"

Eleanor embraced the younger woman with affection. Then stepping back, she eyed her quickly. "You are all right, dear?"

Alfstanna nodded. "Yes. I was able to get free of them and make it to Redcliffe." She glanced quickly over at Lysette. "Thanks to Lys, all is now well, though the enemy does not know it."

Eleanor gave a firm nod, her face breaking into a smile. "That is as it should be," she returned. Turning then, she led the women further into the sitting room where they could relax and share tea. As they did, they began discussing the events surrounding the kidnapping, bringing Eleanor fully up to speed. It was during this time that both Fergus and Leliana joined them.

"Alfstanna!" Leliana cried upon seeing the queen.

Alfstanna chuckled and endured the warm embrace from the bard. They knew each other somewhat, though they both felt their friendship strengthening on a daily basis as time passed. "It is good to see you both," she told Leliana as Fergus stepped forward to give her a hug as well. "And thank you for indulging a queen who was about to go crazy from claustrophobia!"

Leliana chuckled. "Well, we certainly wouldn't want that, would we?" she teased. "Have you seen Alistair? Does he know you are well?"

Alfstanna nodded. "I saw him several weeks ago," she assured her. "He and Teagan both know that all is well, but we all agreed that we should act as if I am still missing."

Fergus nodded in agreement. "A fine course of action," he replied. "Do we know anything about what these people are up to yet?"

Alfstanna took her seat again, deferring to Lysette to brief her brother.

"Unfortunately, no. Alistair told me that he and Teagan had a list of 'suspects,' but that this list is made up of people that we know would not be a party to this scheme. However, given that the names have been mentioned, and that it must look as if the crown is doing a thorough investigation, they are going ahead and interviewing them all as planned. They also hope that it will give them time to discover who is really behind it." Lysette sat back in her seat and glanced at her brother. "We are at a stalemate, I'm afraid."

Fergus nodded. "I wish I could offer something more, but I've not heard much out here."

Lysette smiled. "I know. I suspect, however, we shall simply have to bide our time. What we do know, at least in regard to Alfstanna's kidnappers, is scarcely enough to move forward with."

Leliana frowned. "It was mages, yes?"

Alfstanna nodded. "One was quite clearly a Circle Mage," she told them and then explained the details from her captivity. She was relieved when she did not feel any nervousness or anxiety with the memories, and wondered if she was truly beyond it. "What exactly their role in all of this is, I don't know, but I find it hard to believe that they could be doing this alone."

There was a brief silence before Eleanor leaned forward to pour another cup of tea for herself. "I am in agreement with you," she said softly. "After all of the discussions that Myra and I have had about the Tower, the politics there," she looked directly at Alfstanna, "I hope it doesn't bother you that I did discuss this with her?"

"Not at all," the queen replied. "Eleanor, you know I trust your judgment. That does not change simply because I am now queen."

Eleanor smiled and nodded. "Good. Myra had some ideas on who might be involved, but as she has not been back to the Tower in some years, she can only give vague references to political factions, not to particular individuals."

"Will she be coming with Rory when he visits?" Lysette asked.

Fergus nodded. "From what Rory said in his last letter, yes." He glanced at Alfstanna. "You are aware that he's been supervising Waking Sea with your seneschal while Irminric has been recovering?"

Alfstanna. "Yes. I agree with it one hundred percent."

"Good," the teyrn told her. "He and Myra should be here within the week and you can speak with him at that time, but it sounds as if all is operating well there."

Alfstanna nodded. "I had it set up to operate even if I wasn't there. I worked with Seneschal Nivens and put a core group in place so that if a situation like this ever happened, the bann would keep running and a replacement wouldn't be necessary … at least immediately. However," she added, "I'm certain Nivens would be thankful for the assistance of Ser Gilmore."

Fergus chuckled. "Yes, I do believe he is. Shortly after Rory's arrival, I received a brief missive from Nivens who told me, in no uncertain terms, that he was very appreciative for both Rory's and Myra's assistance."

Alfstanna smiled. She remembered meeting Rory on several occasions, and had nothing but the utmost respect for him. The fact that he had willingly taken over the daily operations of Waking Sea during the bann's time of need only endeared him to her more. She would have to speak to Alistair when this ordeal was done to see what could be done to reward the man.


	24. Chapter 24

Alistair supposed that he was purposely dragging his feet that morning, not literally but figuratively, because deep down inside he simply did not want to believe that Eamon could be capable of something so dastardly as the attack upon himself and Alfstanna. It simply went against everything he knew about the man. Though he knew that Eamon was ambitious, these ambitions were not for himself.  _No, if anyone had the selfish ambitions, it was Isolde … but those efforts were nipped in the bud years before._

Alistair frowned, his guard slowing with him as he walked, but he didn't even notice.  _Could it be because of what happened to Isolde?_  he wondered.  _Could he blame me for that?_

The king seemed to realize then that he was at an almost standstill, and he picked up his pace again. With a sigh of resignation, he continued on, willing this unfortunate meeting over with as quickly as possible.

He neared Teagan's office to find Ser Perth standing outside the room. Frowning in concern, because up until this point the man had been involved with the entire process, Alistair asked him, "Is everything all right, Ser Perth? Why are you out here and not inside?"

Alistair was relieved when the man answered, "Everything is well, your Majesty. I am out here for two reasons. Given my … employment history with Chancellor Eamon, I am perhaps too close to the situation, yes? It would be better for the investigation if I was not to be a part of it unless absolutely necessary."

Alistair blinked.  _Of course._  Nodding, he smiled a bit sheepishly. "I'm sorry … I didn't even think of that."

Perth smiled back warmly. "Your Majesty, none of us did. The idea occurred to me this morning as I arrived. But the other thing that I considered is that when young Connor gets here … might it not be better if he sees a familiar face? One which will not frighten the lad more than he possibly is already? He should be accompanied by at least one templar as well as a more senior mage, but I think he might be more … agreeable, shall we say, if he sees a familiar face unrelated to the Tower?"

Alistair nodded immediately. "Absolutely," he agreed, sensing the man's train of thought right away. Connor had been about eleven or twelve at the time of the incident at Redcliffe … even at fourteen, and an apprentice mage at the Circle Tower, he most likely would still harbor some doubts as to why his presence would be necessary on such sudden notice at the royal palace of all places. Having grown up at Redcliffe, Connor would be familiar with Ser Perth, at least in recognizing the man's face.

They were silent for a time until the king's hesitation at entering became all too apparent. "Your Majesty, it would be best to face the possibility head on, do you not think?" Perth asked quietly. "Chances are that the chancellor is not involved in this, … and if he is, then a serious matter will have been resolved."

Alistair nodded and sighed. "I know you are right, Michael," he murmured, "but it does not make it any easier to face." A moment longer had Alistair straightening, stiffening his spine and rolling his shoulders back. "Right then," he announced quietly. "Let's get this over with."

Alistair opened the door and entered quietly. The table was on the far side of the room and he could see Violette already seated, busily taking notes of the conversation, as Teagan peppered his brother with questions. The king hesitated a long moment, his reluctance returning, before he crossed the room and took a seat at the table. His continued silence was on purpose … hoping that it might …  _provoke_  something at the very least, and force this situation into a resolution ….

Teagan was pushing his brother hard. "Are we supposed to believe that -"

Eamon, for his part, was protesting valiantly. "Brother, you  _know_  I would never do anything to harm Alistair!"

"Wouldn't you? Really, Eamon? If you want even the faintest idea as to how we could possibly consider this, look at how you treated Alistair when he was a boy!"

Alistair wasn't quite sure how he felt when he saw the expression that crossed Eamon's face at that comment, but the king could tell that the man was honestly contrite. Frowning slightly at Teagan, Alistair wondered if the man really needed to be this hard or if he was simply taking out some underlying familial frustrations. But given that he had no better solution and that he was not completely certain that the elder man might not have had his hand in the attack, he continued on with his plan for silence.

The questioning continued on for what seemed like, and probably was, hours, and all the while Alistair remained silent … though it took tremendous effort on his part. He was swamped by memories from his childhood, from the years at Redcliffe … until the door opened, and two figures entered. Glancing over at the newer arrivals, Alistair recognized Michael Perth with Connor Guerrin. Smiling slightly, Alistair rose and joined the two, speaking softly so as not to disrupt Teagan. "Connor, thank you for coming. Has Ser Perth explained what is happening?"

The boy mage, now fourteen years old, nodded and replied quietly, "Yes, your Majesty, he has." Connor looked up at Alistair, though he reached the man's shoulders now. "Your Majesty -"

"Connor," Alistair told the boy quietly, "you can call me Alistair, at least while we are in less formal settings," he assured him.

Connor took a brief moment to consider this before he nodded. "Alistair, I don't see how my father could have done this! It doesn't make any sense!"

Alistair gave Connor his most sincere look. "I don't want to believe it either, Connor, but whether or not he did, his name came up in our investigation, and we have to look at any and all possibilities … including ones that we don't want to believe to be true. Can you understand that?" He watched the boy nod. "Can you remain silent while we continue our questioning? It might be difficult …." Alistair could not in good conscience go without warning the young man. "And, just to be fairly warned, we might have to imply certain … things; things that you might not personally like, things that might seem a bit harsh towards your father, but this is to make sure that he tells us the truth … the  _entire_  truth."

Connor nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful as he evaluated the question from all angles. "I - I think I can," he finally stated softly. Then, glancing up at Alistair he asked, "What if I should have something to say … to him, or to you or Uncle Teagan?"

Alistair nodded, surprised a bit by the boy's insight, but thankful he'd thought of it ahead of time rather than interrupting the interview process. Glancing up at Ser Perth, Alistair gave the knight a questioning look. Michael nodded immediately. Turning back to Connor Alistair told him softly, "If you feel you have something of import to add, Connor, look over at Ser Perth. He is a part of our team as well and will be able to break into our questioning in a manner that will not cause … undue disruption."

Connor took a deep breath and then nodded. "Right," he murmured. Straightening his position, he added, "I am ready then."

Alistair led the boy over to the table. He didn't really expect that Connor would have much to add to the process: the main purpose for his presence was to convince Eamon to tell the truth. But it pleased the king to know that the boy was growing up, thinking more and more like an adult, and clearly by the questions that he had asked so far he understood the importance of this situation.

"I am telling you, Teagan, I had nothing to do with this!" Eamon was saying yet again. "I know nothing about it, I was not party to it, nor do I know anyone who was!"

"And just how certain are you of that, brother?" Teagan asked. He noticed Connor's arrival and gestured the boy forward to sit in a chair between himself and Violette where Eamon could easily see him. "Remember, you wouldn't want your son to think you are not the man he thinks you to be."

Alistair reclaimed his seat on Eamon's other side and noticed the older man pale as Connor took a seat.  _Interesting_ , he thought, though he supposed that if he were in Eamon's shoes he might have the same reaction.

"I … I cannot believe you would stoop to such low measures,  _brother_ ," Eamon growled then, his anger appearing in the glower that now was displayed for all to see.

Teagan ignored his brother's response and started back in with his questions. This continued on for another hour or so until one particular question, Alistair was surprised to see, caused an unexpected reaction.

Alistair and Teagan had decided to bring up the involvement of the mages, insofar as they were a part of the actual kidnapping from the reception not their involvement with what had actually happened to Alfstanna afterwards. When Teagan began down this line of questioning, Alistair noticed Connor sit a bit straighter, his eyes closing partially, his face paling considerably. At first, Alistair thought the boy might be needing a break - some food or fresh air or at least some tea to drink - but a moment later, Connor's eyes opened and darted towards Ser Perth. Alistair noticed the knight nod slightly before stepping forward to murmur softly to Teagan.

With a look of surprise on his face, Teagan dropped his questions for the moment, gesturing with his hand to Eamon that the chancellor should remain quiet, and turned towards his nephew. His voice now softer, less harsh and clearly edged with concern, Teagan asked, "Connor, was there something you wished to add?"

Connor blinked and remained silent for a moment before moving only slightly in his chair as if to find a more comfortable position. "I … Uncle, I think I might have … overheard something … at the Tower … that might help," he managed at last in a quiet voice.

Teagan glanced over at Alistair who nodded to let Connor continue. In the meantime, Violette rose and retrieved a cup of tea for the boy, something to help give him focus, make him less nervous. Setting the drink before him, she retook her seat and smiled at him in encouragement.

Connor murmured his thanks and pulled the drink closer to him. He took a small sip, as if buying himself time to collect his thoughts, and then began in softly, "I … I am only an apprentice," he reminded them at first, darting looks at Teagan and Alistair, waiting for their acknowledgement, "so I may have misunderstood … but some weeks ago, I was in the library, looking for a particular text on the use of certain herbs with magic for healing purposes," Connor's talents had proven in his short time at the Tower to lean towards his becoming a healing mage. "I was deep into the stacks, in the shadows really, and trying to retrieve the tome when I overheard some rather hushed voices …."

Connor looked at both men. "You … you know of the fraternities in the Tower, yes? The groups of mages who have differing viewpoints as to what our purpose should be?" he asked.

Alistair thought back to the Blight and the discussions that he and his companions had at the time concerning such things. "I do, yes," he assured Connor. He saw Teagan nod, albeit slowly, indicating he had knowledge but that it was minimal at best.

"There is a … disagreement at the moment," Connor continued, "between some of the fraternities as to just how much freedom we should be allowed to have." He looked directly at Alistair. "The changes you have made, the freedoms you have granted, are welcomed by most," he assured the king, "but there are still some who wish for more. I have studied about what happened during the Blight … about Uldred and his attempts. I know that of those Libertarians who remain, the majority are willing to work with you, your Majesty, to make their conditions better. But there are some who wish for more … some like Uldred who would like complete and total autonomy. I believe it was members of this group who I overheard speaking."

Alistair sat forward, his almost-Templar senses beginning to tingle slightly at the discussion. Their journey through the Tower after Uldred's coup had reaffirmed for him some of the Templar beliefs about the mages. It had only been his further close association with Wynne, and to some extent Morrigan, that had eased his mind somewhat about the potential risks involved with lessening control over the Tower. "Do you know who these people were, Connor?" he asked after a moment.  _Could they … would they be a part of something like this?_

Connor shook his head. "I - I thought I recognized one of the voices," he admitted, "but it didn't make any sense to me … and the other I could not hear very well at all …."

Teagan leaned towards his nephew. "Connor, who did you think it might be?" he asked gently. "I would hope you would understand that we wouldn't go blindly charging in without enough reason."

The boy nodded and frowned. "I thought the voice belonged to Godwin," he said at last. "But then I realized that didn't make any sense. The man is … spineless; he is afraid of anything that even remotely looks or acts threatening." Connor caught Alistair's gaze. "He is a coward, plain and simple."

"Did you hear what they were discussing?" Alistair asked. To his left, he could sense Eamon's confusion, but he didn't feel the need to explain anything to the man just yet.

Connor's frown returned. "It was … confusing," he admitted, "because I could only hear the one side, but it sounded like they were discussing … the long term effects of … the use of sleeping spells and a twist on a disorientation spell to keep someone awake but under control … but not like in a blood magical kind of way …?"

Alistair felt the blood drain out of him at the boy's words. He caught Teagan dart a glance at him out of the corner of his eye, and he shook his head slightly. "Connor … would you know, of the mages now in the Tower … which belong to the different fraternities?" Alistair queried. He saw the boy nod. "Good lad," he said with a nod. Glancing up at Michael, the king added, "Ser Perth, would you please take Connor to my office and assist him with this? I suspect this information is of more value at the moment than any other we were obtaining today."

Ser Perth straightened and saluted to the king. "Of course, your Majesty," he agreed. When he approached Connor, he waited for the boy to stand before leading him off out of the room.

Rising, Alistair turned towards Eamon, his face a mask hiding his true feelings. "Eamon, I am going to end this line of questioning," he told the man, "for the moment. Though I believe we may have just uncovered something that will prove to be an important clue, we may have further questions for you to answer."

The older man rose and nodded. Alistair could see that his mentor's features seemed about ten years older than when he had first entered the room. "When you are finished with Connor," he asked quietly, "will I be … allowed to visit with him? Before he is sent back to the Tower?"

Alistair nodded. "I don't see why not. I will have him sent to your apartments. And Eamon," he added as the chancellor turned to leave, "I don't want him leaving the palace just yet. I think he may have overheard something _very_  important. Keep him at your residence, allow him to roam the palace, use the library, continue his studies even with whichever mage came with him, but always keep several guards with him. I do not want him inadvertently placed into danger." He saw the shock in Eamon's eyes then, but the man nodded his agreement which put Alistair at ease.

After Eamon's departure, Alistair turned towards Teagan and Violette. "I think Connor may have stumbled onto something," he said quietly. "We need to keep knowledge of this to a minimum, however, or it might put him at risk."

Teagan nodded. "I will go speak with Givens, arrange for a larger security detail at Eamon's quarters."

Alistair agreed. Turning to Violette he said, "Can you find out about who accompanied Connor to the palace? The mage? A Templar or Templars? I think it may end up proving to be useful information."

Violette nodded. "Of course, your Majesty," she agreed. "I will also head down to your office right now to take the list from Connor and Michael so that no one else ever sees it, yes?"

Alistair smiled at the woman. "Brilliant," he agreed. "Thank you."

Violette was just turning to leave when the door to the room burst open and one of the royal guards, Smythson, rushed in. "Your Majesty!" he gasped, his breath irregular as if he had run a great distance. "We've just received word that …."

When the man paused, Teagan spoke up. "Well, out with it, man! What is the problem?"

"The … the Free Marches have been invaded … and word out there is that Ferelden is behind it!"

Alistair looked at Teagan in shock. "I suppose my assurances to the contrary won't do much good at this point," Alistair muttered sarcastically. Throwing his hands up in disgust, he told the guard, "Go and track down Chancellor Eamon … he just left here a few minutes ago. Have him meet me in my office."

"Yes, your Majesty!"

"Teagan? Shall we all head to my office now? It seems that we might have more pressing matters than my wife's kidnapping to attend."

Teagan nodded and fell into step with Alistair and Violette as they left his office. "Either that, or it is somehow connected," Teagan said softly so that none of the others in the hall could hear.

Alistair glanced sharply at the man, but it was Violette's voice that brought him into focus. "Your Majesty, the Arl is correct. Techniques like this are common throughout the political history of Thedas. It is something which we will have to consider carefully."

Alistair nodded, though his mind was reeling as they continued down the hall.  _No sense in borrowing trouble until we know more of what is actually going on_ , he told himself.  _This could prove to be quite the stunning move …_


	25. Chapter 25

The evening was progressing ever closer to its end and, as he usually found himself of late of an evening, Teagan was in his private office at his Denerim estate seated before the hearth and attempting to relax and enjoy the glass of Antivan brandy in the snifter he held. This in itself was difficult because of the lengthy separation from his wife, but even more so recently because of the inclusion of his older brother in the investigation behind who had kidnapped Queen Alfstanna. As he sat, Teagan stared into the fire and considered carefully what had happened earlier that day with his brother and nephew.

If he was honest with himself, he had hated the process of interrogating Eamon, but someone had to do it. And then with the information that Connor had provided ….

His eyes closed, his body finally beginning to relax for the first time in days, Teagan's senses were still alert enough to hear the soft scraping sounds of the door opening behind him; particularly since he'd been expecting it. "Ah, good," he called out to the new arrivals, "you received my message." Rising from his seat, he turned and faced his guests. With a weary smile, he murmured, "I trust you encountered no troubles in getting here?"

"I am assuming you gave most of the staff the night off and those who are on duty are occupied with duties that keep them on the other side of the estate lest they see the Arl of Amaranthine and Commander of the Grey sneaking into your home?" Nathaniel returned sardonically as he stepped forward to greet Teagan with a warrior's wrist grasp.

Teagan could not refrain from an amused chuckle. "I might have done," he admitted. He gestured Clare and Anders into the room as well. "I am glad you could come. Certain events have occurred, and I know Lys trusts you implicitly. I hope you do not mind that I have presumed to do the same."

For the next hour or so, Teagan outlined the events that had occurred during his brother's interrogation, as well as Connor's input. At one point, he turned towards Anders and asked, "Do you know this Godwin?"

Anders' brow furrowed for a moment as he thought back to his days at the Tower. In the end, he nodded an affirmative to Teagan's question. "I do remember him," he agreed, "but he did not strike me as someone who would be capable of being a leader." When Teagan frowned, Anders added, "Godwin is a follower. He's a weasel of the lowest sort - usually had his hands in the illegal trade of lyrium as I recall, that kind of thing. But to lead a rebellion of this magnitude? Absolutely not. The man's practically afraid of his own shadow."

Teagan considered this silently as he explained about the last bit of information that he and Alistair had received that day. "And this attempt to make it appear as if Ferelden is behind an attack upon the Free Marches?"

Nathaniel shook his head. He had spent years in the Free Marches in his youth as he had learned his skills. "This is screaming political intrigue," he murmured, "though from whom I do not know."

"Where did the attacks occur?" Clare asked, her voice soft but firm as she added her input for the first time that evening.

Teagan rose and gestured them to follow him to his desk where he had a large map laid out atop the flat surface. Pointing to the areas affected to the west of the Free Marches along the edge of the Planasene Forest and north of the mountains that bordered it, he faced the three again. "As I am certain you have guessed by now, Alistair and I have discussed these events since being informed and he has come to the conclusion that this is obviously a set up of some sort." Teagan gestured towards areas of the map once more as he continued. "There has been no evidence of Ferelden troops either making passage across the Waking Sea," he pointed to the shortest distances between the two countries which included Highever, "or traversing through Orlais and Nevarra to reach the Marches."

"Has there been any indication - publicly or privately - of the reactions by the Marcher states involved?" Clare queried.

"The king will be meeting with a representative later this week," Teagan told her. "They do not have an 'official' representative in place," he explained, "though I know of the man they are sending." He turned towards Nathaniel. "I believe you may know him as well. Torland Crayton."

Nathaniel nodded, his eyebrows lifting in reaction. "Interesting choice," he murmured. "I would advise you to be with King Alistair when he receives the representative. If by some chance Torland becomes overly … aggressive, simply tell him that the Ferelden Grey Hawk is in full support of the king." At Teagan's sharp glance, Nathaniel smiled slightly. "He will know what it means … as well as the importance of the words. I assume then that you would like us to travel to the Marches, investigate who might really be behind this?"

Teagan nodded. Opening a desk drawer, he reached in for and then tossed a small leather pouch in Nathaniel's direction. "That should be enough to supply the three of you and purchase passage there and back, plus have enough for other … incidentals."

Nathaniel placed the bag into one of his belt pouches and nodded. "Torland is a reasonable man, Teagan," he announced, "and I do not expect he will cause problems. He may spout on a bit at first, but it will mostly be political posturing. I suspect - and I think you and Alistair may know this already - that the source behind all of this had highly placed ears and eyes at court. I would recommend that you and the king's 'official' visit be held with a gathering of the Landsmeet - on public display for all, including those behind this - to see, then have a second and more informal meeting at some time afterwards.  _That_  would be the time to mention the Ferelden Grey Hawk."

Teagan nodded as me took mental notes and admired the younger man's political savvy. "The only other suggestion I would give you would be to direct any communication directly to me," he added as he led them towards the door. "If you are correct, and I have no reason to doubt that you aren't, Maker only knows whose eyes and ears at the palace are involved."

Nathaniel's features darkened. "I can do you one better, Teagan. I will direct any communication to Vigil's Keep. One of my Wardens can then be dispatched to brief you personally."

Teagan nodded. Pausing by the door, he gave them each the same warrior's clasp that he had given Nathaniel upon their arrival. "Maker keep your travels safe, my friends," he told them quietly. Without another word, he watched the threesome disappear in the direction from which they had arrived.

* * *

They traveled quickly and lightly for the moment, departing Denerim early the next morning. They traveled to Vigil's Keep first to brief the Wardens, then headed to Amaranthine to stock up on their supplies and book passage. They found an Antivan trade ship sailing for Kirkwall the next evening with a captain more interested in money than in politics. Once they were at sea, well away from the shoreline, Nathaniel brought Clare and Anders together for a strategy session.

They met in Nathaniel's cabin as, due to its location below deck, it was the least likely (or most difficult) to be listened in upon. Anders' abilities also included a spell combination of his own creation (Glyph of Repulsion plus Sleep) which he established on the outer edges of the cabin to protect them from any unwanted intervention or intrusion.

Before they began, Clare told them, "I overheard some of the deckhands discussing the attacks against the Marches." She glared at Anders who appeared to be preparing one of his usual snarky comments. "From what was being said," she continued, "and I do not claim to be an expert in Antivan by any means, it appears that at least one of the hands had a brother who was also a sailor. This sailor was 'hired' to 'assist' with the transportation of troops to the border between the Marches and Nevarra."

"'Hired?'" Anders remarked. "Blackmailed, more like."

Nathaniel nodded his agreement. "I'd be more curious who these supposed troops were."

"Actually," Clare broke in, "this brother got a look at some of them. From what I understood, they looked for the most part like Ferelden troops, but the man said his brother told him the emblem was 'slightly off.'"

Anders frowned. "'Slightly off?' What does that mean?"

Nathaniel's grey gaze darkened. "Unfortunately, it means that whoever is behind this scheme is relying on the fact that most people will be familiar enough with the old heraldry of the King of Ferelden not to notice when it is being used in place of the newer heraldry." At Anders' confused look, he reminded him, "Don't you recall King Alistair altering the royal heraldic device slightly upon taking the throne? For the most part he kept it the same, but he added the extra mabari in the center, remember, to differentiate between himself, King Cailan and King Maric. It's only been two years since he took the throne, most people, especially those outside of Ferelden, probably don't know or don't care enough to notice."

Clare frowned. "So is this someone intelligent enough to purposely go with the older heraldry, or someone stupid enough?"

"Either way," Anders added, "it becomes a frightening prospect."

"That it does," Nathaniel agreed. "I suspect, however, that this was someone who did it on purpose. They had to have known that it would eventually be found out at the highest levels, but were relying on the panic of the people to keep things going their way ..."

"Someone playing to the fears of the people," Clare echoed, sitting back a bit, her hand rising to rub against her chin. "What frightens people the most?" she queried.

"The unknown? Power? Intimidation?" Anders looked over at her as she focused her attention upon him. He was confused for a moment when she gestured him to continue his line of thought …. Then with a heavy sigh, he realized what she was after. "Mages," he said flatly.

Clare nodded. "We are still close enough to the events of the Blight for most of Ferelden's citizens to be at least very wary of the power of mages. Toss in a king who wants to give them some additional freedoms …."

Nathaniel's scowl deepened. "An attack on the queen by mages … to encourage the people to rebel against the king?" He shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. From what Connor overheard, these are a group of mages who want  _more_  freedoms, not less."

"How do you catch a rabbit?" Clare asked, leaning forward once more. "You set a trap; you make it look like something it's not, something familiar. You  _lure_  your prey in until they are trapped in the snare …."

"You mean -?"

"In politics," Nathaniel added, his head nodded at Clare's assessment, "it is sometimes called 'smoke and mirrors.' You mask or hide your true intentions by causing a diversion."

"Exactly," Clare responded. "So the question remains: what is the enemy's true goal? I think it is safe to say that Queen Alfstanna's abduction was the diversion."

"And the main goal then?" Anders demanded. "I hate to disillusion you," he added acerbically, "but the way they were treating her, the spells they were using -"

"If her kidnapping had been more than a diversion," Nathaniel explained, "there would have been a ransom demand within a few days or she would have been killed. No," he shook his head, "I agree with Clare on this one … there is something bigger at work here." He noted Anders' continued protests and said directly to the mage, "Anders, I don't doubt that what they were intending wasn't dangerous or cruel. What Clare and I are saying is that it was but a small piece of a larger plan."

The mage frowned and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. After a moment longer, he nodded. "Convince me then. What was the larger goal?"

Clare sighed. "That is a very good question. I can think of at least one or two viable options."

Nathaniel felt Clare's gaze turn to him then. "As can I," he agreed. "And none of them are in the least bit reassuring."

Clare shook her head. "No, that they are not." Using her fingers, she began ticking off the ideas. "First, by making it look as if Ferelden is behind the attacks, it could be an attempt by a foreign power to destabilize Ferelden's throne in preparation for some sort of coup. Given the situation during the Blight when we sat on the brink of civil war, I can understand that there would be supporters of Loghain who survived and might be involved with such a plan."

Nathaniel nodded. "I agree. Bann Loren, Arl Kendells, Bann Sedgwick are three who come to mind immediately, though I am certain there must be more."

"Could they be anti-Warden supporters perhaps?" Anders asked suddenly. He felt their eyes turn towards him then. "What? The king used to be one. Remember Bann Esmerelle, Nate? If she survived, certainly there could be others?"

Clare shook her head. "Though that is an excellent point, and one that should be kept in mind, I do not get the feeling that this has anything to do with the king being a Warden."

"So we are back to political machinations," Nathaniel murmured. "Someone who … wants more power than they have? Who wants to regain power and influence they once had?"

The cabin fell quiet for a few moments as they each pondered the multitude of choices. "Well, given Queen Alfstanna's description of the foreign mage, we must consider both Tevinter and Nevarra," Clare pointed out.

"Nevarra used to be a part of the Free Marches, so I can see that," Anders agreed. "And Maker knows the Tevinters have all sorts of magic that no one outside of that particular kingdom knows about." He shuddered at the thought. "The Crows perhaps? Though I will admit that this sounds a bit out of their purview given what they would charge for something on such a grand scale."

"We have time to consider this in more detail before we make landfall," Nathaniel reminded them. "This is too important to jump to quick conclusions. Let's keep our ears open for any more conversations and clues, and we can meet again tomorrow to discuss anything new we discover."

As Anders rose and removed the residuals of his spells so that they could leave the room, Nathaniel added quietly, "Remember to be on alert at all times. It is possible, though somewhat unlikely, that someone here has been sent to watch us."


	26. Chapter 26

They were nearing Denerim when Alfstanna finally asked, "How are we going to do this?"

Lysette chuckled. "The same as before?" she suggested. Upon their departure from Highever, Fergus had seen to it that Alfstanna was equipped with a complete set of leather armor emblazoned with both the Highever and Cousland heraldry, indicating that she was not only a soldier of Highever, but a personal bodyguard to the teyrn and teyrna themselves. The two friends had had a good laugh at that, though Fergus had assured Alfstanna, "I would trust you at my back any day, Alf, I hope you know that."

Alfstanna had kissed his cheek and told him, "And I would do the same for you and yours, Fergus. Thank you."

As Lysette now led the way into the capital city, both Mickley and a well disguised queen a few paces behind her, Lysette wondered quietly what her husband's reaction would be to their unannounced and unplanned arrival. She noted the setting sun as they passed the chantry, as well as the devout who here headed to evening prayer. A few moments longer, and the three were pulling into the courtyard of the Arl of Redcliffe's Denerim estate which soon became a bustle of activity as groomsmen appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and Seneschal Jordan and additional servants arrived to retrieve their personal gear. "Put Mickley's belongings in the barracks," Lysette instructed. "Put Joscelyn's in the spare room next to mine."

"Yes, my lady!"

"Jordan, is my husband here or still up at the palace?" Lysette asked as she and 'Joscelyn' entered the estate proper.

"At the palace, my lady. Would you like for me to send for him?"

Lysette nodded as she gestured Alfstanna on ahead of her. "Please. Oh, and ask him to bring the king as well. We will have dinner and then we have much to discuss. Tell the king he may want to consider spending the night as I am sure we will be up late."

"Yes, m'lady."

Lysette made her way to the rooms that she and Teagan shared where she immediately stripped out of her armor and bathed quickly to remove the dust and stench from the road. After drying off and dressing in a pale rose colored dress - a favorite given to her for her birthday the previous year by Leliana - Lysette exited the room and moved to the one she had indicated Alfstanna take. Knocking lightly, she entered the room quickly and before any acknowledgement. "Sorry," she murmured, moving to her friend's side, "didn't want anyone seeing me bringing you this."

Alfstanna smiled at the dark forest green dress that Lysette set upon the bed. "It's beautiful!" she breathed. Rising from the chair at the vanity where she had been brushing her hair, Alfstanna crossed to lift the dress into her arms. It wasn't anything overly fancy, and was probably something most people in the country would think was beneath their queen; but to Alfstanna it was the most beautiful thing she had seen in a very, very long time.

Gesturing towards the privacy screen, Lysette said, "Go ahead and get changed."

Alfstanna followed her friend's advice and moved behind the screen. The lengthiest part of the process she had discovered the years, was unbuckling the multitude of straps and buckles on the leather armor that kept it in place. She was, however, quite used to this by now, and despite the unfamiliarity with this particular suit, she was down to her tunic and breeches in mere minutes. "What is the plan then?" she queried over the screen as she lifted the tunic over her head.

"Well, first and foremost I believe we shall eat," Lysette announced, her grin in her voice, "and then depending on our husbands and their reactions …."

Alfstanna chuckled as she finally was able to pull the dress on. It fell into place easily, the material butter-soft against her skin and comfortable as well. She adjusted the bodice, the sleeves and then reached for the belt for her waist. Once satisfied, she stepped out and turned a circle for Lysette's benefit. "So, what do you think?" she asked, though her friend's smile already told her the answer.

Lysette grinned. "Perfect. Alistair will melt the moment he sees you."

Alfstanna felt her face grow warm at the thought, but she grinned at her friend and took a seat upon the bed. "So, what now?"

Lysette gestured towards the vanity again and said, "Why don't you let me play lady's maid for a bit, hmm? I may not be quite as talented as Leliana, but I can braid quite well. We'll make you look like the queen that you are so that your king can remember how besotted he is with you …."

Alfstanna chuckled again as she sat in front of the mirror. If Alistair's reaction was anything like the last time they saw each other, that would not be a problem ….

* * *

Teagan had been in his office alone when he received the brief message from Seneschal Jordan. Violette and Perth had left for the evening and Alistair had his own business to attend.

_My Lord,_

_The Arlessa has returned to Denerim and requests both yours and the king's presence for dinner this evening. She suggests that, given the nature of the discussions as well as the timing of her arrival, his majesty might consider staying overnight at the estate._

_Jordan_

Teagan acted quickly as most of the day's work had been concluded, filed and safely stored away by Violette before her departure. He merely had to grab his cloak and head across the palace to find the king. When he arrived at the office, he was ushered in almost immediately where he found Alistair seated behind his desk. Teagan chuckled a bit as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "Well, aren't you looking official?" he teased.

Alistair glanced up from the document he'd been reading. Rolling his eyes a bit, he rose and set the papers aside. " _Someone_  has to keep the country moving," he commented. Then a heavy sigh as he reached out to shake Teagan's hand. "I wonder just how inappropriate it is for the king to admit that trade documents are boring?"

Teagan laughed aloud before leaning in (he didn't necessarily want the guard - a man he did not recognize - to overhear). "Lys has returned and wants us to meet her at the estate for dinner. It's likely to be a long evening and she says you should plan to spend the night."

Alistair nodded. Turning towards the guard, he queried, "Chandler, please have Givens come and see me immediately." Without waiting on a response, the king turned back towards Teagan. "Problem?" he asked quietly.

Teagan shrugged. "I know nothing more than what I just told you," he replied while handing over the note. He looked over at a hesitant guard and made a slight gesture to catch Alistair's attention. Alistair looked up from the note, glanced over his shoulder and sighed. "Chandler, this is the Arl of Redcliffe. He's the closest thing to a brother I have - I am safe with him. Please, go find Givens and have him return." With extreme reluctance, the guard finally left, and Alistair sighed. Turning back, he handed the message to Teagan. "Well, hopefully this is a good sign?"

Teagan nodded. As they waited on Givens to arrive, Teagan updated his friend on the occurrences of the day, though it had mostly been routine, and finished a few moments later by saying, "I just finalized the final interview today. In a couple of days we will speak with Ignacio … the gentleman from Antiva who -"

Alistair's deep chuckle broke off the Arl's comment. "I know Ignacio, Teagan. Lys and I worked with him … or rather,  _for_  him, to some degree during the Blight. Hopefully, he will have some pieces of the puzzle we can fit in." The king sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. Givens arrived soon thereafter, and after briefing the man on the change of plans, Givens finally accepted the idea so long as his majesty did not fuss about a small escort to the Arl's Denerim estate. Alistair, however,  _did_  start fussing as he noticed that Givens' idea of "small" really meant a full contingent of guards. "No," he insisted. "I want this to be kept quiet. Taking this many guards will alert anyone that it's me …"

"But, your Majesty," Givens' argued, "we cannot guarantee your safety if we do not take at least -"

"No." Alistair refused to change his mind. "Four at most," he conceded. "Remember, Givens, Arl Teagan and I are capable warriors, so that will give us six should we need it, which it will not."

The guard captain looked pleadingly over at the Arl. Teagan, determined not to become a part of the argument simply shrugged. Reluctantly, Givens nodded and turned to go and make the changes. "But they will be my best men," he grumbled as he left.

Alistair glanced over at Teagan and saw the look being tossed at him. Grinning, he challenged, "Don't give me that look! You know damned well that we don't need that many people escorting us!"

Teagan chuckled but said nothing. Moments later, they and their escorts (including Givens himself) were ready and on their way out of the palace towards the Arl's estate. At Alistair's insistence (and Givens' dismay) they walked to the estate. However, the trip proved to be uneventful, and upon their arrival, Alistair and Teagan both commented on the quickness with which they were able to arrive at the estate.

Teagan led the king inside, both men running into Seneschal Jordan in the lower entry hall. "Your Majesty," he bowed to Alistair and then turned towards Teagan. "My lord. The Arlessa has decided on a private dinner in your rooms, my lord."

"Thank you, Jordan," Teagan replied while leading Alistair off towards the living quarters.

"Do I need to allow you and Lys a few moments to yourselves before I enter?" Alistair asked jokingly as they walked. "I wouldn't want to spoil the reunion."

"I believe my wife can … restrain herself in front of your royal presence," Teagan volleyed back. Both men knew that Lysette would be glad to see them both.

When they arrived, Teagan entered the suite first with Alistair close behind and Givens taking up station outside the door. Alistair closed the door behind himself, turning to find Lysette stepping forward to greet her husband … and then a blur of green to his right caught his attention. Turning, he gasped in surprise to see his wife walking up to him. "How fares your majesty these days?" she asked quietly as she walked into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist. Alistair could barely respond. "Tanna! I - Are you - is everything -?"

Alfstanna grinned up at him, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "All is well, husband," she assured him quickly as she slid a hand into his. "I was going stir crazy in Redcliffe and Lys decided to have mercy upon me," she told him.

Alistair felt a wave of relief pass through him immediately at her assurances. Lifting his other hand to her face, he leaned over to rest his forehead against hers. "I'm just thankful you are safe," he murmured before standing straight once more. Glancing over at Teagan and then Lys (giving her a grateful look as well), he moved his arm around his wife's shoulders and pulled her to his side while commenting, "Shall we have dinner and discussion then, ladies? I think we have quite a bit to catch you both up on, and fresh insight would be most welcome at this point." He gave Teagan a more serious look and saw the man nod. It was going to be a long evening.


	27. Chapter 27

It had been an effort to keep his routine looking as normal as possible since the wedding and the kidnapping, but Alistair had continued with his normal schedule of visiting the royal stables several times a week and, upon occasion, going for a ride. At first, it had fallen under the category of 'Everything must be kept looking normal so that they do not think you are affected by what has happened.' Once Alfstanna had escaped, however, keeping his routine had been one of the few ways in which Alistair had felt he could find distraction enough so that he wouldn't accidentally let the fact that his wife was safe slip into inappropriate parties. On this particular day, as he led the way out of the city with his guards following close behind, it was planned as a distraction of another sort. Alistair had a particular destination in mind: a hunting lodge located about six miles north and west of the city in the heart of the royal forest. The lodge had been built before his father's time, before the Orlesian occupation even, though Maric had had it restored to more modern standards during his reign.

The sun had yet to descend as the king's party rode into the clearing. As he dismounted, Alistair noticed that the thickness of trees and foliage surrounding the lodge created a sense of a dusk's waning light. Reaching for his saddlebags, he handed the reins over to Givens who led the animal, along with his own mount, towards the stables before setting the guards on duty for the night. Alistair barely noticed their departure as his mind was already focused inside of the building, he turned towards the lodge and went in search of his wife.

After passing the evening before at Teagan and Lys' estate in the city, Alfstanna had risen early that morning and made her way out of the city before dawn in order to help keep her safe return to the capital city a secret. The four of them had stayed up late with their discussions regarding the progress of the investigation, and the short night's sleep had not been very appealing nor appreciated at the time, but Alistair had insisted that his queen relocate to the lodge before dawn in order to be kept safe. He and Teagan were to have their meeting with Master Ignacio today, exploring the possibility of an 'Antivan connection' in the grander scheme of things, and as there was nothing that Alfstanna could do to assist with that the king had decided that it would be better for her (as well as ease his mind considerably) if she were to be escorted out of the city that morning. Reluctantly, Alfstanna had agreed.

She and her guard had left the city before sunrise in an attempt to escape curious eyes, but by the time they arrived at the lodge the sun was well on it's ascent. Though she was not riding Piceron this day (the need to keep things in Denerim appearing 'normal' was paramount), the animal provided by Master Neely was more than sufficient for her needs. After arriving and settling into the lodge, Alfstanna took the day to relax, bathe and then sleep. The lack of sleep from the night before plus the continuously building stress of remaining in hiding from an enemy yet to be determined was finally catching up with her, she finally admitted when she found that she could not keep from napping even in her bath. Once she removed to the bed and her head hit the pillow, she slept most of the day away, her two trusted guards remaining outside the building to ensure her safety.

Late in the afternoon, Alfstanna finally rose feeling marginally better and attempted to make a simple stew for the evening meal (it had been years since she had done any cooking of note for herself) with the provisions she had brought along with her. She found comfort and calm in the process of preparing the meal. The roasting of the meat before slicing it up for the stew, the peeling and chopping of vegetables, the fresh scent of herbs that she added to flavor the meal all gave her a sense of peace in a way she had forgotten from her youth when learning these things as her father and his men had trained her. As she continued, she found her thoughts drifting towards the future … wondering if there would be any way she could get into the royal kitchens to do the same, or at the very least, teach her own children the lessons her father had taught her.

Alfstanna paused in the process of stirring the pot and found herself smiling.  _Children._  Would she and Alistair be blessed with children? Would they have her slightly darker looks or their father's fairer ones? Or, Maker help her, would she and Alistair end up with twins like she and Irminric had been? Chuckling softly, Alfstanna pulled her thoughts back to the meal and moved the kettle away from the fire just a bit so that it would not scorch, though the image of Alistair and a set of twins continued to amuse her.

Some time later, Alfstanna was just testing out the results of her efforts when she heard the sound of the door opening behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she felt a smile pulling at her lips as she spied her husband entering the room. She rose to her feet then, the simple burgundy and silver linen gown she was wearing settling about her as she moved, and she silently mused at the wonder of the relationship they now found themselves in and at how well they matched to one another. She would thank the Maker, and Lys and Leliana too, the remainder of her days for suggesting this arrangement.

Alistair spotted his wife immediately and crossed the room to greet her, pausing only a moment to set his saddle bags on a nearby chair. Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned down to kiss her. Alfstanna sighed into his embrace and leaned against him fully for a long moment before straightening. With each passing day that she was able to remain in safety, she realized that so much of it was owed to him, and the sense of security she felt with him nearby. She did not blame him in the least for what had occurred. As she had told him before their marriage, dangers such as this came with the territory. But she could thank him for the moments like this in which she could relax and be at ease despite the danger and chaos around them. "I am glad to see you, too!" she murmured teasingly and allowed a grin to spread as she saw him blush.

Alistair leaned his forehead against hers for a long moment, his eyes closed tightly and his hand running through her hair. He was finding that having her in his arms was one way in which he could release the stresses from the day. Turning to kiss her cheek lightly, he returned, "I missed you today."

Alfstanna's brow rose in some concern at this. Gesturing for him to sit at the table, she served up a generous bowl of the stew she had made (she was well aware of his Warden appetite) and handed him a large chunk of the bread that had been brought in from a bakery in the city. "Oh? Problems I should know about?" she queried as she busied herself with preparing some for herself.

Alistair sighed as he took a seat at the small table nearby, relaxing into the chair and determined to enjoy the fact that he was not being waited on hand and foot. There were times he dearly missed his life before becoming king. No one hovering, he could speak freely and not have to censor what he said …. "Not problems exactly," he explained. "After speaking with Master Ignacio today, Teagan and I have no doubts that he, the Crows, and the Antivans are not involved in this."

Alfstanna paused and glanced over at him, curiosity lighting her eyes. "Tell me about it," she suggested.

Alistair shrugged and took another mouthful of food before speaking again. "Amongst other things, it was something that Ignacio said," he tried to explain to her. He was finding it difficult, however, because he could not quite pin down exactly what it was that was bothering him. "Something along the lines of, 'those who are responsible are right in there with those who are making the accusations, except that their protests are the loudest,' or something like that."

Alfstanna nodded, considering his words. She understood the general idea he was trying to convey. "He has a valid point," she agreed. "On the other hand, …."

Alistair nodded. "On the other hand, we still have no idea yet who is involved, who even is making the accusations. Master Ignacio did not have any specific ideas to that end either, though he did think that there is some foreign influence involved." He sighed heavily and gave Alfstanna a wry look. "Apparently, we Fereldans are not so worldly when it comes to political machinations." He paused then for just a moment before taking another bit of stew and looked over at her. "I'm sorry. You do not need me dumping this all on you. It isn't as if you can do anything about my frustrations because I feel almost like we are back at the beginning of this whole investigation without anything to show for the efforts we have all put into it to this point."

Alfstanna set her napkin aside and moved her chair so that she could seat herself next to him. Reaching out, she took his hand for a moment and simply held it in hers, squeezing it gently in support. "I know it is difficult," she admitted quietly, "and trust me, I wish I could be out there in the open helping with all of this, but we both know that can't happen."

"I know," he admitted. Another sigh and then he added, "And you are absolutely right on that account. Aside from the fact it would tip our hand, I will not take any unnecessary risks with your life again." He lifted her hand to his lips briefly. "This is just one of those times I feel so completely useless and out of my element …."

Alfstanna squeezed his hand once more. "You will sort it out," she murmured as she looked up into his eyes and gave him a brilliant smile. "I know Lys and Teagan both very well. Fergus too. I also know that they care a great deal about you and me and that they will not let any possibility pass without a through investigation. As much as we do not want to admit it, we must sit back and wait on them."

The king sighed again. "I dislike waiting on others to do things I should be able to do for myself," he groused, his eyes narrowed as a slight frown formed on his lips.

Alfstanna swallowed back amusement at his admission. If there was one thing she was sure of about this man, it was that he was more than capable of doing whatever was necessary on his own. She could, probably should, remind him that as king he would have to get used to that, but to be honest, she found this side of his personality to be quite endearing. It was a part of what made him who he was, and she did not want to risk him losing that side of himself. "From what Teagan said last night, it doesn't sound as if you could do it all on your own anyway," she returned instead. During their discussions, Teagan had informed them all of his decision to send Nathaniel, Anders and Clare to the Free Marches.

"It's just … Tanna, I feel so bloody helpless in all of this!" he finally told her. "I don't want to sit around waiting for others to do things for me. I am meant to be out there -"

"Doing things for others?" she finished for him. She was not surprised at the look she found in his eyes then. Not for the first time since she had found out about his parentage and upbringing, Alfstanna found herself cursing Eamon and the way he had treated Alistair as a child. That, plus his years learning to be a Templar had him selling himself so short …. Biting her lip as she thought of a way to counter his argument, she finally asked, "Do you not see that by being king you do this? Look, Alistair, think of it this way: you are in the ultimate position to help others. You are their king! But in order to do the many things that need to be done, you need to allow others to do the legwork for you. That way you help the most people in the most efficient manner." She leaned over and gave his arm a quick hug. "It may not be the same way in which you've assisted others in the past, but do not for one moment think you are not helping."

"And is it 'helping' you to be kept hidden away like this?" he demanded. "I know it isn't helping me at all."

Alfstanna sighed softly. "I will not respond to that because we both know the answer, don't we?" She waited for his nod before she continued. "I know you are upset and frustrated because you cannot get this resolved any faster. But do not for one moment think you are not making a difference." She caught his gaze and held it. "If you were not, I would not be here now, safe, and you know that."

It was on the tip of Alistair's tongue to retort back that, if he had not become involved with her in the first place none of this would have occurred … but he did not. Realistically, he knew that whoever was behind this would have found a way, some way,  _any_  way, even if he had not married Aflstanna. He sighed once more, attempting to release his mood with the rush of air, before he pressed his lips to the back of her hand once more. He knew that she, too, was stuck in a similar situation at the moment having to remain invisible. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I -"

She pulled her hand free and reached up to cover his lips. "No," she insisted. "No apologies necessary. While I will admit that I do not care for being kept hidden away," she grinned at him to take any sting out of her words, "and would much rather be at your side, fighting this head on, I will do this and without fuss because I know that it is necessary to ensure the best outcome possible for everyone involved. I will have to rely on you to see this through." She offered him a warm smile then and concluded with a bit of cheek, "However, if you decide that you need someone to bounce ideas off of, to share thoughts or theories with, or simply another perspective, you know where to find me."

Alistair blinked for just a moment then before offering her a slight smile. She was right, he knew that, and he needed to adjust his way of thinking and accept that. At least for now. They ate in silence until the meal was finished at which point Alfstanna rose and gestured him towards a cushioned bench in front of the hearth. "Why don't we sit in comfort over here?" she suggested. She was pleased when he easily agreed and soon they were settling comfortably and snuggling close to each other.

"This is nice," he commented as he pulled her close, his arm tightening around her almost as if to remind himself that she was really there with him and not just a memory or a dream.

"It is, isn't it?" she agreed, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. She found herself sighing in contentment as he began caressing her arm lightly with his hand.  _Perhaps I can find another way to distract him from his worries,_  she thought to herself. "We will have to find a reason to come back here more often once this situation is all cleared up, I think."

Alistair glanced down at her for a moment, their eyes meeting and holding. He could see something there in the green depths he was learning to read and it made him smile. Though he was certain that his days of embarrassment were not yet gone, at least the suggestion he saw there did not have him running towards the door. Lifting his hand to tuck a loose curl back behind her ear, he decided to try his hand at the game this time. _Granted, I will probably put my foot in it and end up embarrassing myself in the process, but might as well give it a try …._ "Why would we need a reason?" he asked, his hand lowering towards her hip and settling there for the time being. "Unless, of course, you wanting a  _specific_  reason ….?"

Alfstanna chuckled softly. Tilting her head and leaning upwards, she started to feather kisses along his jawline. "Why, your majesty," she murmured, the lilt of her voice sounding like a soft caress, "I had no such intentions. Did you, perhaps, have something in mind?"

Alistair could feel the heat trying to rise into his face even as he fought it back. "I … I am sure I could think of … something," he promised, though he had to admit it sounded lame to him. He was definitely going to have to work on this!

Alfstanna grinned against his skin as she continued to tease him. "So could I."

Alistair didn't even bother to attempt to contain the groan he felt pushing past his lips. Her words, the feel of her lips and warm breath against his skin, her hands now moving to roam beneath his tunic … he did not want to take a chance of ruining this thing between them. Twisting his large frame so that he was leaning back and Alfstanna could stretch across him, Alistair started to match his own actions to words.

Alfstanna rose to her feet after some moments and reached a hand out to encourage him up beside her. Turning slightly so that her back was to him, she pulled her hair to the side and indicated that Alistair should assist her with the removal of her dress and the chemise beneath. Barely was she free from the clothing when she was turning to assist him as well, her hands moving quickly to the belt at his waist. Alfstanna tilted her head up towards him, a smile playing at her lips as she heard him suck in his breath sharply in response to her hands sliding beneath the waistband of his breeches. The look in his eyes darkened and she took this as encouragement, so she began moving them to slide them down around his hips. This time he growled softly and her smile widened. She enjoyed causing him to react, delighted in the sounds he made in reaction to her touches. As her hands continued to roam, she heard her name, a deep rumble that began in his chest and worked its way forth. Alfstanna had to close her eyes for just a moment as an intense wave of emotion washed over her at the sound. He was hers, she was his. Despite those who were attempting to keep them apart for reasons yet to be determined, they were still and would remain together, even if they could not declare it to the world just yet.

As for himself, Alistair's hands did not remain idle as his wife attended him. He too was touching, tracing the lines of her frame as she stood before him. Her skin was soft beneath his calloused fingers, her muscles firm and toned. He found himself fascinated by the way her hair moved around her face, along the back of her neck. Once she had coaxed him out of his clothing, he backed up until he was seated once more. Only then did he reach out for her, gently grasping her hips and pulling her down to straddle his lap. "Tanna," he groaned as she brushed against him.

Alfstanna leaned in to kiss him and murmured his name against his lips. The lodge was empty but for them. She slid her arms around his shoulders as he stood, lifting her into his arms almost as if she weighed nothing. _Maker's breath, he's so strong!_  she realized, understanding all too well that she was no lightweight. Smiling up at him, though, she simply nodded in the direction of the door behind her that led into the bedroom.  _Reason enough, indeed._


	28. Chapter 28

Nathaniel closed the door to the cabin behind him, making certain it was secured tightly before he walked away. He had to admit that he had been a bit surprised to wake and not find Clare beside him, but after subduing an initial moment of concern he realized he knew where he would find her seeing as they were so close to arriving in port. With that in mind, he'd made the decision to rise, dress and go in search of her.

She was where he had suspected she might be: standing along the rail at the front of the ship, separated from the majority of people on board except for an occasional ship hand who passed by while attending his duties. "Will I have to fear you running away from me once we land in Ferelden?" he asked quietly as he moved to stand nearby but not too close so as to frighten her.

Clare had heard his approach, even as soft as his steps where, and was not startled by his voice when he spoke. "Do I have reason to run?" she returned while turning slightly to face him. She caught his gaze and held it for a long moment before allowing herself to smile. What had happened between them in the Marches had been unexpected … but not necessarily unwanted. After a time, Clare had found herself opening up to him, telling him about her past, explaining her concerns … and he had done the same with her. Though they were still trying to sort out the rest of it, she thought that for the most part they had reached an even level of understanding.

Clare shifted a step closer to him and he slid his arms around her, holding her between his body and the railing. There was no demand, just a simple move to protect her should they hit choppy waters once more as they had done on and off during this voyage. "I would hope you would speak to me first if you thought there was reason," he finally murmured. Changing topics then, he asked, "So, if you were not plotting my abandonment or worse, why then are you up here?"

Clare sighed softly and leaned back against his chest, soaking in his warmth through her threadbare cloak. "I was analyzing what happened in the Free Marches and trying to determine options for our next move," she finally replied.

Nathaniel's arms tightened around her just a bit. It had been a near thing, he recalled. They had split into two groups. He and Clare had followed one path and Anders another. When they had met up in Cumberland a few weeks later, it became clear that the situation was much more complicated than any of them could possibly have imagined; certainly more so than King Alistair or the Arl and Arlessa of Redcliffe could have known.

Clare felt the movement and lifted a hand to cover his lightly, patting him reassuringly. There had been a close call or two during their journey, but all had worked out in the end. "We must meet with Arl Teagan," she murmured softly. "He needs to know what we have discovered; what Anders has discovered. Then he and the king can decide the next step." She shuddered just a bit and tightened her hold on his arm for a moment. "I am not afraid to admit to feeling out of my league with this one."

Nathaniel nodded, his head resting against her shoulder as he considered the situation. "This has the potential to destroy all of the progress that has been made since the end of the Blight," he observed.

Clare shuddered again at his words. That thought had crossed her mind more than once on the journey back. "Indeed."

* * *

Though the ship came to berth in the Denerim docks in mid-afternoon, they decided as a group to wait until nightfall before disembarking. Despite the precautions they had taken with Arl Teagan when they took on the assignment to get him informational updates, they knew that the enemy would have spies out and about just waiting for them to make a mis-step.

Shortly after nightfall, they began moving quickly through the back alleys and streets of Denerim. Clare took point, Nathaniel brought up the rear and slowly but surely the group worked their way through the city until they reached Arl Teagan's Denerim estate. Clare had been somewhat fearful of the guards not cooperating when they finally arrived, but no sooner had she announced their presence than they were being led indoors into the company of the seneschal. "Wait here, my lady," the man instructed Clare as Nathaniel and Anders followed her, "and I will inform the Arl and Arlessa."

Clare nodded and turned to face her companions as the seneschal moved off almost before he had finished speaking. Nathaniel, true to his promise to Teagan, had sent word through the Wardens to update the Arl on their efforts in the Marches. This had also included a last minute message before they left Cumberland suggesting that the information they were bringing would need quick and decisive action.

"Maker be praised you've made it back safely!"

There was no mistaking Teagan's voice moments later as it boomed through the entryway, somewhat a mixture of excitement and relief in its tone. Clare darted a quick grin at Anders and Nathaniel before turning … to see the startled look upon the Arlessa's face as she recognized who the additional companions with them were. "Wynne? Zevran?"

Clare sought out the Arl then with her eyes and gave him a questioning look, tilting her head slightly towards the door leading to a dining area where they could all sit comfortably. She had no doubts that the travelers would do better with a rest while they told their stories. Teagan nodded immediately, stepping forward to gently nudge his wife in the same direction while saying, "I have no doubt that you have had a trying journey, my friends. Come sit. I will have refreshments brought in and later you can tell us about you travels."

Though they moved quickly into the next room, Teagan trailing behind so that he could instruct the seneschal to have the servants to bring in food and drink, Wynne and Zevran both managed to move beside Elissa and greet her with affection. Clare did not pay much attention to this - she knew they were friends from during the Blight and that their reunion should be somewhat private - though she did hear some chuckling, heavy sighs of exasperation and gentle yet fond chiding of Zevran as they settled themselves at the table. Though she and the Antivan elf had not spoken much together during their journey, Clare had come to recognize his personality and suspected that the others were well aware of it.

At the table, Nathaniel held a chair for her as she sat and Clare offered him a smile of thanks that widened only slightly as he took the seat beside her. Anders, she noted, seated himself beside Wynne, Zevran to the elderly mage's other side, and Teagan and Lysette at the end of the table. Moments later a haphazard meal was brought together and set before them thus allowing the travelers the time to collect their thoughts in preparation for what was to come while dining.

As the meal progressed, others began to appear at the estate to join them. First to arrive were Violette and Ser Perth. Clare was so delighted to see her old friend that she rose and gave her a quick hug before returning to her meal.

Some time later as the meal wound down (Clare found herself admitting if only to herself that she lost track of how much time had passed) Teagan sat back in his seat and gave the small group a considering look. "I would ask that you wait just a bit longer before regaling us with your tale," he explained somewhat apologetically. "I am expecting -"

"Wynne!"

Clare was startled by the sudden booming proclamation from the king who now stood in the doorway to the dining area … with Alfstanna beside him. While the man moved to greet his former comrades (she could hear Zevran yet again making his usual suggestive comments, though she found it amusing to hear the king sputter just a bit in quick protest), the queen moved around the table and greeted both Violette and Clare warmly and affectionately. "You have both proved yourselves to be loyal friends throughout this experience," she told them quietly, "and for that I cannot even begin to thank you."

Violette demurred in response, but Clare had no time to make a reply before the woman was turning towards her. "And you!" Though not actually surprised, Clare had to admit to being startled when the woman threw her arms around her and gave her a warm hug. "I cannot begin to tell you just how glad I am to see you safe!"

Clare could not hold back a blush. "Thank you, Your Maj -" The strength with which the queen squeezed Clare's hands then reminded her that the queen was still a fierce fighter. "Don't you  _dare_!" she hissed so only Clare could hear. Clare simply nodded, too stunned to find any other response.

Nathaniel rose then and assisted the queen into the seat he had been occupying before holding Clare's chair for her once more as she took her seat. Clare continued to feel his presence behind her after she was seated, though, and could not hold back a soft smile … one that as she glanced beside her, she noted Alfstanna observing and smiling at her knowingly in return.  _Oh Maker … the explanations to come!_  Clare thought as the group settled down.

Teagan gave them direction then, commenting mildly, "I would ask where the story might begin, yet I am beginning to suspect that there is no clear starting point."

After a moment's pause, one pregnant with expectation, it was Wynne who spoke up first. Smiling first at the king and then over at Lysette, she began, "I believe it is I who should begin, my lord …."


	29. Chapter 29

With old friends and new settled around her, Wynne could almost believe that she was back in one of the make-shift camps that they had set up during the Blight, sharing stories as a way to pass time while partaking in a meal, tending to armor and weapons, or simply relaxing for a moment after a battle. This eve, her story took them all back to begin just after parting ways with Lysette and the Wardens in Amaranthine so many months before.

Nodding at the Arlessa, Wynne murmured, "As you well know, I was heading to Cumberland in Nevarra for a gathering of the College of Magi." The elderly mage paused then, a soft sigh escaping her lips. It had been such a trying time. "Little did I realize," she continued, "in fact  _none_  of us realized just how long and drawn out this particular meeting would be."

Lysette leaned a bit forward then, reluctantly but needing clarification. "Wynne, as most of us have little knowledge of the purpose of the meeting, could you give us a bit of explanation please?"

Wynne nodded immediately. "Of course, my dear. Forgive me." This time her sigh was one of concentration as she tried to sort out how best to explain. "To put it as simply as I can, the Circle of Magi is the group of mages who represent all of the Circles throughout Thedas. Their purpose is to give all fourteen Circles guidance, a comprehensive plan of study and training for the Circle mages, throughout Thedas. The  _College of Magi_  is a group made up of selected representatives from the Circles who meet periodically, always in Cumberland, to discuss policy and sometimes to select a new Grand Enchanter." Wynne glanced around the table and saw there was still some confusion. With a gentle smile, she added, "Think of the College of Magi as something akin to your Landsmeet here. They meet together, decide policy, debate issues … that sort of thing."

The elderly mage found it slightly amusing when she noted that almost at once the rest of the people at the table nodded in understanding. With a smile, she continued. "The purpose of our gathering this time was to openly discuss and debate the idea that the Libertarians have to make a complete break from the Chantry." Her gaze settled upon Anders for a long moment, a hard look there as she silently attempted to beg him off further argument on this topic. Their journey back from Nevarra had contained enough of that.

Alistair broke in then. "But I thought that they were making progress?" he mused.

Wynne smiled patiently at him, her fondness for the man softening her look. "In Ferelden, yes. Alistair, you have to remember, not all of the countries wish the mages to have much freedom, particularly not to the point of breaking completely away from Chantry control." She saw him nod, observed as Alfstanna reached out to cover his hand with her own and squeeze gently. "And while you have made great strides in that area, you must also understand that the Libertarians want  _all_  freedoms. No control by any outside group whatsoever."

Silence fell then as her words seemed to sink in. Another hard look over at Anders was timed perfectly as he seemed to be about to lean forward and add his two cents worth. For the moment, Wynne did not want the discussion side-tracked or diverted in any way. That could happen later.

Lysette seemed to pick up on this and murmured, "So you went to Cumberland for this meeting. How long was it supposed to last? It's been … what? Two and a half years since I last saw you? Maybe longer?"

Sadly, Wynne nodded. Shifting just a bit, she settled more comfortably in her chair, her only outward sign of any distress whatsoever being her hands upon the table which she began wringing together. "The gathering began about three months after I saw you," she explained. "But don't misunderstand me - our meetings are not continuous day-long sessions one after another. The discussions and debates can get somewhat … heated," her gaze drifted towards Anders as he snorted at that comment, "and there are times when extended breaks are granted. It was actually during such a break that I came across some information pertinent to your current cause." This time, her glance settled upon Alistair and Alfstanna.

The king was startled by this. " _Our_  cause?" he repeated, his hand turning to take Alfstanna's in his and return the pressure.

Zevran slipped from his seat then, silently and unobtrusively as possible, returning moments later with another glass of wine for Wynne. The mage gave him a grateful look, a slight nod of thanks, and then took a sip. The vintage was quite good, she thought. "We had been meeting for about … eighteen months by then, give or take," she explained, "when I happened to overhear a conversation that was most certainly  _not_  meant for my ears." Wynne glanced at Alistair and then Lysette before smiling sheepishly and blushing just a bit. It was one of her little flaws, she supposed, that she could find herself in such situations … but at her age, Wynne was not about to change her ways, and she made no apology for it. "I was in the library doing research." She looked over at Lysette this time and winked, a knowing grin teasing at her lips. Of all of the companions from the Blight, Wynne knew Lysette would understand best.

The Arlessa chuckled. She  _did_  understand.  _Books …. all the books_ , she thought.  _There is no way that Wynne would not have been in the library!_  When Teagan leaned towards her then and asked softly, "Care to let me in on the joke?" Lysette released more of a chortle this time. Reaching over to pat his hand, she murmured, "Later, dear. Later."

"Anyway, I had made my way to the back of the stacks where the rarer books were kept," the mage continued. "I am still not certain how long I was there before I realized that there were voices coming from nearby. I had not noticed them at first, so engrossed in the book I was reading, but as they continued talking, their voices became … edgier. Harsher. Certainly more demanding." Wynne frowned and tried to recall the incident, now some months past. "I thought at first it was some of the mages continuing the most recent heated discussion for which we had taken a break, so I ignored them for a time … until I heard them mention Ferelden … King Alistair … and freedom. Once I heard  _that_ , I had to listen in."

Alistair felt the heat creeping up his neck. Wynne in many ways was somewhat like a surrogate mother to him. That she would risk herself in such a way did not surprise him in the least - he had seen her do it upon several occasions. It was just the fact that she would do it for  _him_  that he found difficult to accept sometimes. But, ignoring his feelings in that regard for the moment, he queried, "And what did you find out?"

Wynne released a heavy breath. "It did not take long to realize it was not simply a meeting of mages," she explained quietly. "I believe, though I do not know for certain at this point, that there were at least two mages present in addition to three others whom I believe were either nobles of Nevarra or somehow representative of them. The topic of discussion was one that was rather interwoven and convoluted, though I finally managed to figure out their goal. From what I heard … they planned to use an attack against the king of Ferelden as a way to destabilize the country so that they could have the country taken over by someone more favorable to their cause and, in addition, completely free the mages from the Chantry." Wynne glanced at Alistair then. "They knew you were giving the mages more freedoms than any in other countries, but they wanted it all. If they removed you, in association with the politicians, then they felt they could accomplish all they wanted in one fell swoop. Killing two birds with one stone, so to speak."

Alistair sat there for a moment feeling completely caught off guard. Remove him to help the mages and bring in their own puppet? "But … why? Why Nevarra, I mean," he added quickly. "We've had no direct confrontation with them, our relations since my coronation have been quite … amenable. It just doesn't make any sense."

It was Teagan who spoke up this time. "Your Majesty, I suspect that the reasons for this are purely politically motivated. We are only three years removed from the Blight. There was a civil war before. There are still, obviously, people in this country who do not approve of Maric's bastard being king." The Arl gave Alistair an apologetic look. "I do not believe it is anything … personal, if you will."

"Not personal?" Alistair felt anger taking over then, his fist slamming on the tabletop. The only reason he managed to remain in his seat was due to Alfstanna's touch on his hand. "They try to remove me from the throne, they kidnap my bride to do Maker-only-knows what to her … It can't get much less personal that that!"

During the silence that followed, Wynne sighed once more. Alistair's naivete was something that both pleased her and dismayed her. But then again, she would want him no other way. Another drink of the wine seemed to calm her suddenly trembling hands as she struggled to find a way to continue, Wynne noticed. She truly did not care to recall this part of her story … but there was no choice, was there? "I was discovered a short while later. Needless to say, they were not amused to find that I had been listening in, so I was imprisoned." Wynne lifted her gaze to meet Alistair and then Lysette once more. "That was almost a year ago."

* * *

Zevran sat back and listened quietly as Wynne recounted her story. He knew it well by now, having discussed it with the mage at length on the journey back to Ferelden. He found that it stirred up an emotional response that he had no explanation for, one that the Crows had trained him  _not_  to feel in his profession. Though he still had no explanation for his reaction, he had finally learned, mostly thanks to Wynne's counseling, to accept it. So, when he heard a slight crack in the mage's voice, noticed the trembling in her hands, he understood that the time had come for him to tell his side of things. Reaching out, he gently took her hand in his own, squeezed gently, and waited for her to look at him before smiling and nodding. He did not miss the appreciative smile in return as she settled back.

Turning his attention to his hosts, Zevran leaned forward then. "I think this might be as good a time as any to interject my escapades up to this point." He waited for any sort of reaction and, even though it was only a rolling of the eyes from the king, Zevran chuckled. Some things simply did not change. "Suffice it to say, that I was on a mission of some great importance to the Crows when I happened upon a group of … travelers, shall we say, at a tavern in the capital city of Nevarra. As with our lovely mage here," he flashed Wynne a slightly lecherous grin and was eased to see that she actually smiled at him in return, "I overheard a plan that, though less particular in some of the details, was clearly aimed at the overthrow of our by-blow king here."

Alistair snorted softly, but did not interrupt otherwise. He had long ago come to terms with his parentage.

A smirk played at Zevran's lips then. "Though, I must admit that what I overheard was more of a … well, an arrangement of funding and support, would you say?" The elf lifted a hand to his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully as he recalled the meeting. "There were no mages involved in this discussion," he added, "though some names were mentioned, a location, the ongoing meeting in Cumberland … little pieces that when put together formed a larger picture. There was also the little incident of making it look as if Ferelden had invaded the Free Marches." Another smirk. " _This_  I could not allow to pass without further investigation, let me assure you."

Shrugging, Zevran continued. "I left Nevarra the next morning. Your name," he nodded at Alistair, "had been mentioned, as had the College of Magi in Cumberland. An 'inconvenience' to be 'taken care of,'" he reached out to pat Wynne's hand at that. "I simply followed a trail. When I arrived at Cumberland, I found a place to begin my search for more information. It took some time, but I eventually discovered the whos, whys, wherefores …. And then, I met Anders."

* * *

It had been difficult for him to remain silent during the evening's discussion, but given the looks that Wynne had been sending him, Anders had managed to refrain… barely. That he and Wynne had different viewpoints on the mage situation was not surprising. Still and all, he understood that much of what she discussed tonight painted a greater picture than simply the mages' efforts for freedom, and so he had found the necessary extra effort.

During the voyage home, Anders had been a part of the discussions between Wynne and Zevran, and not simply because he had been there to assist Wynne's healing process. Stifling an involuntary shudder, Anders fought to remain focused on the story being told. As Wynne sat back and allowed the assassin to take over, Anders reached over, beneath the protective shield of the table, to touch Wynne's leg … and give her a boost of healing magic. She had been in horrible shape when he had first come upon her in Nevarra. He had argued fiercely, upon deaf ears he found out, to wait on this discussion until such time as the elderly mage had been able to rest up.

Now, as Zevran brought their stories together, Anders felt he had something more to contribute. "After our arrival in Kirkwall, we," he nodded over at Clare and Nathaniel, "agreed to divide up into two groups. They went their way, I went mine. My way ultimately led me to Cumberland some days later. I met Zevran here within a day or two and after we both realized we had someone in common," he flashed a cheeky grin over at Lysette, "we soon came to realize we were investigating the same thing."

Skimming over their initial meeting and the briefings that took place afterwards as they caught each other up to speed, Anders continued. "Long story short, we found Wynne incarcerated, rescued her, and then went into hiding until Nate and Clare joined us some days later. It was during the journey home that I came to find out the rest." A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "I can truthfully say that I am quite happy not to be associated with the Libertarians after this," he admitted to the others while silently grateful to the fact he preferred his own isolationist views. "As much as I can agree that the Circle needs to make changes, these actions are much too extreme in my opinion."

Anders let his eyes scan the others at the table then. "But back to the point at hand … I think I can safely say that, between us," he gestured towards Wynne, Zevran, Nathaniel, Clare and himself, "we can now tell you with sufficient and damning evidence who all was involved in this plot."

Teagan glanced over at Alistair. They had what they needed, it appeared. All that remained was the timing... "When?" he asked simply.

Alistair paused a moment to take his wife's hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a moment. "As soon as possible. I want this over," he replied as he rose to his feet. "Anders, if you and the others would provide your list of names to Arl Teagan …."

Anders agreed and stood then, everyone else rising at the same time as if realizing that the meeting was now over. There was some mingling then, a more affectionate reunion between elderly mage and king, an introduction between Wynne and Alfstanna, but generally speaking the group began to disband for the night after promising to be ready to attend the moment that they received a message stating when and where the final confrontation would be taking place.

It was when Alistair bade his wife good night that the realization finally began to fall into place for the king. "Not much longer," he murmured as he leaned in for a gentle kiss.

Alfstanna chuckled just a bit. "A good thing, too," she teased. "As much as I enjoy 'living on the road,' I can openly admit to wanting to be back in my own home!"

Sighing, Alistair pulled her close and held her tightly for one long moment. "And then what, Tanna? Once the adventure is done and we are back to our normal and somewhat dull lives … do you think you can live with being my queen?"

Alfstanna blinked and stared up at him. Was he teasing her or was he seriously doubting whether she could find contentment as his wife and queen. "I think," she finally replied, "that being married to you is all the adventure I will ever need." The smile he gave her then made her realize that she had given him the right answer. Shaking her head in bemusement, she pushed lightly with him as Givens approached. "Now go … back to the palace with you, Your Majesty," she told him with a smirk. "I will see you again soon enough."

Alistair could not resist kissing her one last time. "As you command," he whispered before pulling away and turning to leave. The soft sigh he heard from her was more than enough to get him through this night alone.


	30. Chapter 30

The walk back to the royal palace had been a long and lonely one despite being accompanied by Givens and the rest of his guards. Alistair desperately wanted this whole mess done and done. Complete. All the 'bad guys' dealt with and put away where no one would ever find them and from where they could do no more harm and cause no more mischief.

The king sighed heavily as he entered the bedroom suite. Truth be told, he wanted his wife back where she belonged - by his side. He had no doubt that recent events had been some sort of test, a way to remind him that Alfstanna would not only be a valuable ally, a wonderful friend, a woman he could love … but someone who's temperament and personality would match as well as compliment his own. He understood that as king, he would never be able to offer her a 'normal' life … but then he remembered that she had grown up prepared to run the Waking Sea bannorn, and as such probably had never known a day of 'normal' in her life. 'Normal' wasn't the issue.

Changing out of his more formal clothing into a simple pair of linen pants, he crossed the room and stared out at the royal gardens below. He found himself wishing still that he could offer her something more than just … being queen. Once this crisis was over, what would be the next? When? How long would it be before the nobles began questioning whether or not he was suitable as king for some other reason? What if Avernus' concoction all those months ago had not worked because he had been a Warden for so long and he was unable to have children? Then again, what if Alfstanna came under threat yet again by some other fanatical group wanting to make their statement to the world through force ….

Turning away, Alistair muttered to himself and sought his bed. He  _had_  to get some sleep, as difficult as that might be. The next few days were likely to be busy ones if Teagan could manage to arrange things that quickly. Settling himself beneath the bedclothes, the king lay back and linked his hands behind his head, turning to stare up at the ceiling while struggling to find a way to lull his mind and body to sleep. He had a vague recollection of Lysette saying something to him during the Blight when he had gone on and on and on about 'what ifs.' If only he could remember ….

* * *

" _Alistair, you have to stop this. If you worry about all of the things that we cannot focus on at the moment, you will drive yourself mad!"_

_Alistair frowned at her. "But they are valid concerns!" he protested._

_Lysette chuckled and nodded as she reached out to take his hand in his. He stared at their joined hands for a moment, desperately fighting the blush that he felt creeping up his neck._

" _Have you ever heard of the Serenity prayer?" Lys asked quietly._

_Alistair blinked. The Serenity prayer? "Um, … don't think that was contained in with the Chant, so no," he finally managed, hoping he was correct with that. He had been a half hearted student at best when it came to studying that._

_Lys chuckled again, a tolerant smile playing at her lips. "No, silly!" she teased back gently. "It's a prayer my mother taught me ages and ages ago. You see," she told him as she looked up into his amber gaze, "I used to be a lot more like you back then. 'What ifs,' and 'could have beens,' trying to think several steps ahead of myself all the time."_

_Lys smiled softly then and sat down on the nearby log with him. "It goes like this: 'Maker grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.' There's more to it than that, but that's the gist of it."_

_Alistair found himself suddenly thoughtful at her words, the meaning clear, the rightness of them standing before him. "I … think I see your point," he acknowledged after a moment._

" _Do you think you can do that?"_

_One of his trademark lopsided grins appeared then and he nodded. "I can try if nothing else," he promised. And he had._

* * *

Teagan had never experienced such a frustrating few days trying to organize a meeting of this complexity before, but the fact that he could arrange for it to take place within a week or so of receiving the names of those involved was saying something about his ability at organization … and the cooperation of those involved.

Now as he stood inside one of the larger ante rooms off the Landsmeet hall, he found himself wondering what would come of this. Everything that could be planned for had been, meticulously. He had arranged for extra guards outside of the room, securing the only entrance. They were men whom he knew to be incredibly loyal to him and the king and who would not let anyone inside (or out) until they were given permission by him or Alistair to do so. Inside the room itself, there were no guards present save Givens. However, Teagan was not concerned. Considering that those individuals who were on the king's side included several Grey Wardens and a knight and others who were trained well in the arts of defense, Alistair's security was guaranteed.

Once all were present and settled into the room, Alistair arrived in full accoutrement, including wearing the crown he so despised. The fact that it had been Alistair to suggest the idea had told Teagan much about the younger man's state of mind at the time. Now, taking the seat Teagan had designated for him, Alistair nodded for the proceedings to begin. To that end, it was Teagan who stepped before him and called the gathering to order.

"I bid you all welcome," the Arl began, bowing in a formal manner as appropriate for such a gathering. "I know that you must have questions regarding the purpose of today's meeting -"

A slurred protest from across the room really came as no surprise. "Whasiss all about?" Vaughan Kendells protested as he rose from his seat. "Yoou've no rrright …"

Alistair decided one of the many favorable perks of his position was to nip this outburst in the bud, so to speak. "I have  _every right_ , Arl Kendells, as King of Ferelden and particularly when treason is involved. Now sit down and be quiet." The king then gave Givens a signal and the man moved into position nearer to the Arl should anymore protests be forthcoming from that quarter.

Now satisfied that interruptions would be at a minimum, for at least the near future, Teagan nodded his thanks to the king and started again. "As you all are well aware, the events beginning with the attack upon the king and queen at the royal wedding and the subsequent kidnapping of Queen Alfstanna have led us to conduct a thorough investigation into the occurrences. This investigation has taken many twists and turns, but finally has arrived at its destination. It is a destination that, as His Majesty just mentioned, involves treason. Treason to the royal family, treason to Ferelden. Your presence today will bear witness to our evidence."

It was at this point that Teagan took began to sketch out the course of events of the investigation for those present who had not been a part of the actual process - the discussions, the claims, the 'evidence' that was provided yet proved to be false. He wove his tale carefully, methodically until he had brought everyone to the present. This served a dual purpose: to bring everyone in the room to the same level of knowledge regarding the investigation as well as to hopefully lull those who were about to be accused into a false sense of comfort.

"We have evidence that proves participation by certain individuals, and it is our plan to..."

Alistair sat back and disconnected himself from actively listening. He and Teagan had discussed this plan over the past several days, and he trusted the Arl to direct things where they needed to be taken. At the moment, the king was more concerned with the reaction of those directly involved in the plot once they were challenged on that involvement. While there was more than enough evidence to prove the guilt of these particular men several times over, Alistair knew full well that having his wife present in the room would be the most damning ... and the most dangerous. He had expressed to Teagan, and the Arl had agreed, the need to keep Alfstanna out of the proceedings if at all possible.

So now, as he settled his gaze upon the group of men who were about to realize that their lives would most likely be forfeit, Alistair found himself wondering …  _why?_  How? Why would they get involved in such a grandiose scheme? Yes, the mages and their desire for freedoms he could sort of understand. Even Wynne and Anders had expressed their disappointment in events, realizing that these radicals would not help their cause but could hurt any future attempts by the mages. Though he agreed with the idea to a certain extent, the king had to admit that much of what he had heard of late horrified him, and that did not simply come from the Templar training he had received nor the views of his mage friends. If he was completely honest with himself, Alistair knew that his judgment at the moment was very biased given the attack upon Alfstanna. He had finally decided that the final outcome of these events, the punishments he would have to mete out, were ones that he could not make alone due to this bias and he had sought out the assistance of both First Enchanter Irving on the mage side of things as well as the advice of Knight Commander Greagoir. Their guidance, he hoped, would help him keep reactions at an even balance.

The suddenly shocked faces of Kinnon and Godwin, both sitting nearby with a heavy Templar presence around them lest they decided to directly attack anyone in response to the accusations, signaled Alistair that Teagan had just made the accusations against them.  _Godwin and Kinnon,_  the king mused.  _I remember Kinnon … vaguely. He was there with Wynne when we found her at the Tower during the Blight._ Alistair sighed softly.  _Such a waste of talent all because one wanted more than they have right at this very moment …._  Alistair had been briefed by Anders on Godwin's previous actions during the Blight, his role in the smuggling of lyrium. And while the Warden mage seemed to think that Godwin was not a real player in recent events, Alistair was not so sure. To be so conniving and sneaky and  _successful_  at smuggling lyrium out from right under the nose of the Chantry clearly suggested some sort of abilities ….

And then Alistair saw it in the man's eyes … the telltale glint that announced to anyone looking that his intentions would be to defend himself. Alistair sat forward then, ready to spring up and into action if necessary (he _was_  still Templar trained, after all), but the Templars surrounding Godwin and Kinnon were on alert and managed to diffuse the situation before the man could do a thing. A brief struggle later and both mages were being escorted from the room by the Templars, a specially prepared dungeon cell awaiting them below.

The silence in the room after the two mages had departed was noticeable for its length until a new voice asked, "So that is it? The mages were behind all of this?"

Teagan turned back towards the guests in the room and shook his head. "No, my lord ambassador. I am terribly afraid that this plot was something much more complex." Teagan's glance settled upon the representative of the Free Marches, the man who Nate had assured them would work with them. "You no doubt recall, Ambassador Deiter, a recent supposition that Ferelden troops had invaded the Free Marches?"

Alistair watched Deiter closely. He was a smooth one, the king noted. Not a flinch or twitch or any sort of reaction to indicate one way or another if he realized that he had been found out. As the discussion continued around them, Alistair kept his eyes locked upon the man. Communications had been located, missives sent by the man's cousin who was a high ranking noble back in Nevarra. Notes suggesting collaboration with Fereldan nobility … someone who would be willing to take the throne yet do as he was ordered. Zevran's evidence was brought up then … and finally Alistair saw the ambassador react. Deiter paled a bit as Zevran recounted almost word for word the conversation he had overheard in Nevarra, as he described in intimate detail (thank the Maker for the assassin's talents  _this_  time!) the people who had been in attendance. And then there was the small matter of the not so secret meetings between Deiter and Vaughan ….

"What do you have to say about your participation in all of this, Vaughan?" Teagan demanded.

The Arl of Denerim snorted derisively. Now somewhat sobered without having had a drink since before his arrival, the man was a bit more coherent in his speech, though more snide in his remarks. "What have you got?" he demanded. "Absolutely nothing, that's what! And you would not  _dare_  do anything to me as it would bring you into -"

Again Alistair rose. "The decision is mine, Vaughan," he said firmly. "You and your family have lost the right to the title and all lands belonging to the Arl of Denerim. You will be executed for treason against the crown." Alistair took a few steps forward then, bringing himself close enough to stand face to face with the man. "You tried and failed, Vaughan," he pointed out. "We have incontrovertible proof of your collusion." Alistair gave a quick, silent prayer of thanks to Bann Shianni who, despite the contested way they had parted some weeks before, had come through with testimonies from several of the elves at the Alienage who were employed by the Arl and had overheard conversations, observed visitors, retrieved documents. Those testimonies combined with the rest were more than enough. "Do you really want to take the blame for it all?," Alistair asked, his voice dropping just a bit as if to make the suggestion more personal between them. "Do you want to go down for this … alone?"

Alistair finally saw the first crack as the man before him winced and then snarled in anger. "You have  _nothing_!" Vaughan shouted, taking a threatening step towards the king. Givens had moved beside the king when he came to a stop a moment before and now inserted himself between the two men. And then, a heartbeat later, the man seemed to crumble before all present. Half sobbing, half growling, he ranted, "You don't  _deserve_  to be king! A man who would grant freedoms to the elves, to the mages even! You and your policies will destroy this country!  _You didn't even see that your own secretary was involved in this!_ "

Givens led the man to the doorway then, after a brief struggle and some more shouting, before handing him out to some of the men for transport to the dungeon. Alistair watched the process as it happened right before him, though he felt somewhat removed from it all.  _Andreas was involved … why does that not surprise me?_  The man was not in attendance at this particular meeting, but all the king needed to do was give Ser Perth a knowing look and the knight exited the room to search the man out. He would not escape.

"Ambassador Deiter," Alistair announced, his voice low with controlled anger as he turned to face the diplomat, "Now that the truth is known and Nevarra's complicity has been displayed, I will give you two options. The first will allow you and your staff to go now, pack up your belongings and be out of Ferelden on the first ship leaving in the morning. Advise your cousin and your leaders that we are well aware of their political maneuverings and we will  _not_  be played for fools. It will take a great deal of effort on their part to mend relations with Ferelden in future." He did not add that the Free Marches might not be so considerate in their dealings should they meet up with him. Alistair noted that the man was nodding in acknowledgement, though to his credit he remained silent and kept an expectant look upon the king. "Your second option is to face execution along with the Arl of Denerim …."

The man began moving before Alistair could finish his statement. As he reached the door, the king called out to him though his eyes were on Torland Crayton who nodded in agreement with what he was saying, "And advise your leaders of this: if anything remotely suggestive of an attack or an attempt to take over the Free Marches by Nevarra is discovered, Fereldan troops will be there to give full assistance to the Marcher States. Is that understood?"

The king didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he stepped forward and extended his hand towards Crayton. "I thank you for your patience and your participation," he murmured to the man. "And should the Free Marches wish to send a more permanent delegate to Ferelden in future … that delegate would be most welcome."

Crayton chuckled and returned the handshake. Though not what one might call politically savvy in most arenas, he did understand how things worked between people. Though his part had been small this day, to see the Nevarran ambassador leave in such a state had given him great pleasure. "I will pass that message along to them," he agreed.

Alistair glanced around the room then, almost surprised that the situation now suddenly seemed to be over. As Nathaniel approached to speak with Crayton, the king withdrew and sought out Teagan. The Arl and his wife both turned to face him as he neared. "So … it is over?"

Lys smiled warmly and nodded. "It is, Alistair."

Teagan nodded. "Our evidence is indisputable. When the Landsmeet comes together, they will have no trouble in agreeing on the punishments, I assure you."

Alistair sighed.  _The Landsmeet._  A fickle group, he knew all too well, but if Teagan seemed sure then he would have to accept the man's word on the matter. There would be other matters to discuss then as well, but this the king knew would take top priority. "I will defer to your experience and expertise," he told his friend. Lysette laughed then, the sound easing the final tensions remaining in the room until both men were able to relax and smile easily. Lifting a hand to remove his crown, Alistair barely felt Violette take it from him as he murmured, "Now then … I think I shall go in search of my wife." If he heard the amused chuckles behind him as he turned to leave, he did not acknowledge them at all.


	31. Chapter 31

"It's all over."

Alfstanna was standing near the window staring out at the gardens beyond when she heard the door open and the familiar voice make this announcement. Turning slowly, she faced her husband as he entered the sitting room. Her first sign that his words were truth came when she noted that his guards remained outside the room without even a cursory look around before Alistair closed the door behind him. A good sign. "Everything?" she queried softly.

In lieu of a response, Alistair simply crossed the room to stand beside her. They stood that way for long moments, both staring out the window, neither sure what to say or do next. This had been such a heavy weight upon them for so long … to be free of it at last almost left an empty hole needing to be filled. Almost.

Finally, Alfstanna broke the silence by asking, "So then … what happens now?"

Alistair repositioned himself so that he stood behind his wife, sliding his arms around her waist, tightening so that he could express some measure of emotion that he had been keeping pent up all of these long weeks and months mostly spent apart. "Well, for starters …." His voice trailed off as he his hands came to a sudden stop in their movement. Biting back a smile, Alfstanna continued to keep her gaze focused outside the window, content in the fact that they were together. She heard him emit a sort of strangled snort then, a noise that made her chuckle softly as his hands came to settle at her tummy and she realized what he had encountered beneath the usual tunic and trousers she preferred to wear. After a moment's pause, his fingers began exploring, slowly, carefully, hesitantly. Confusion, bewilderment and just a touch of fear could be heard in his voice as he half whispered near her ear, "Tanna ...?"

Alfstanna smiled indulgently and leaned back into his embrace before glancing up over her shoulder at him. "Have I disappointed you, husband?" she asked softly but with a smirk of amusement. She watched as he struggled to respond, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions. Turning in his arms then, she lifted a hand to his cheek and she murmured, "Alistair, it's alright, love."

Alistair groaned, lowering his forehead to hers, closing his eyes tightly. He was feeling overwhelmed just then by a mixture of emotions ranging from fear to delight to awestruck and back to fear again. "How … how long have you known?" he asked.

"Your mage friend, Wynne, confirmed it for me this morning," she admitted, "though I was beginning to suspect a few weeks ago. I didn't want to say anything yet lest you become distracted from your investigation ..."

Alistair suddenly felt as if he might fall over. Slowly, he moved to sit in a nearby chair, all the while, his hand tightly around Alfstanna's as he tugged her along with him. Eventually he sat and settled her upon his lap, his arms wrapped securely around her as he tried to take in her little surprise. "There are things I feel with you," he admitted quietly as he held her close and tight, "that I never knew I could have, or experience - because of who I was, my station in life, whatever the reason." Glancing up then, he looked deep into her eyes as he shifted his hands to guide her face towards his. "I love you, Alfstanna, and I need you to know that."

Alfstanna smiled and placed a hand over one of his as she told him, "Alistair, I know. And had we met years ago, before any of the events of the Blight and what came after, whether you were stable boy, Templar or prince, I think I might have known then as well." She leaned in then and kissed him soundly. "We were meant to be," she told him simply. Sitting back just a bit, she added quickly, "And just for the record so you know … I love you too."

Alistair chuckled then, the momentary haze of disbelief finally beginning to fade. "Good to know," he told her with one of his boyish, partially lopsided grins.

* * *

It took several weeks before the nobles could all be assembled in Denerim for the Landsmeet, but during that time several things become clear. As Alistair had suggested, the Nevarran Ambassador had departed Ferelden, a ship bound for Cumberland as he desired taking no chances upon whatever reception might find him in Kirkwall. Torland Crayton too had left, though messages received at the palace since that time suggested that the Free Marches might well be sending a representative to Ferelden and that representative could well be Crayton himself. Though he had only spoken with the man briefly, Alistair hoped this might indeed be the case. They had worked well together and he thought they might be able to continue doing so in future.

Additionally, Alistair had agreed to allow the mage contingency of First Enchanter Irving, Conner and most of the templars to return to the Tower. Though Conner had provided valuable information in the investigation, his presence would not be necessary at the Landsmeet and, as Irving had pointed out to the king, could possibly make things more awkward. Since Kinnon and Godwin had finally admitted to their part in matters, it had been decided that if any reference to Conner's information was to be made, it would be in a general sense, therefore allowing the younger man and his companions to leave.

That was not to say that there would be no representatives from the mages present at all. Wynne would be present, and Knight Commander Greagoir had insisted upon staying as well. Though Alistair had found himself somewhat confused by this - during all the time that he had known Wynne, she had never had a Templar babysitter with her - Wynne did not seem upset by the arrangements and so the king did not make any protest.

When the Landsmeet finally began, as before when the conspirators had been confronted with the truth, Teagan, this time along with his wife, presented the case before the gathering of their peers. Slowly, methodically, the events from the time of Alfstanna's kidnapping were laid out and the evidence against those who had committed the crime. The queen herself was present this time, seated upon the dais beside her husband. Alistair insisted, though Alfstanna did not disagree in the least, in holding her hand throughout. The presentation of evidence itself lasted a full day. The debates about the fates of those involved took longer.

The mages were dealt with first. Nominally, this was because the case for the participation of these men was much more clear cut, but everyone knew it was more that they were trying to put off dealing with one of their own kind. In the end the discussion and debate over what to do with Kinnon and Godwin, with insights presented from both Wynne and Knight Commander Greagoir, resulted in a sentence of both men being taken to be turned Tranquill. They would be escorted back to the Tower with a contingent of Templars from the Denerim Chantry and a small yet select delegation of nobles who would be witness that the ritual was performed.

The question of what to do about Vaughan Kendells was a bit more complicated. While it was made clear from the beginning of the debate that ensued that all were shocked and outraged by the man's actions and involvement, there was disagreement as to what extent punishment for such actions should take. The majority of nobles present believed that the Arl of Denerim should be punished to the full extent of the law - stripping of his title and lands and execution for treason. There were smaller groups, however, with suggestions that were far more lenient. Most agreed with the removal of title and lands. Some thought that would be enough. Another suggestion put forward was to exile the man and his family. And yet another simply wanted him sent away for no less than ten years. In the end, however, when finally voted upon, the majority of nobles agreed that Vaughan Kendells should be executed for treason. The date set was set for the following week, before most of the nobles would depart Denerim for their homes.

Though the decisions regarding the plotters took most of the time designated for the Landsmeet, there was still other business needing to be taken care of. On the final day of the Landsmeet, three other pieces of business were dealt with and for this reason alone had been the requirement that all the nobles of the land be in attendance. The day began with a formal recognition of the marriage of King Alistair and Queen Alfstanna, which ultimately was official approval of Alfstanna's position as queen of Ferelden. Cheers abounded throughout the hall and it was a good fifteen minutes or so before things had calmed enough so that they could move forward. At that time, the royal couple made the official announcement that the first of many (hopefully) royal heirs was due to arrive in early autumn. This time the cheering and excitement was so loud it seemed as if it would bring down the hall upon their heads.

The final piece of business then became the appointment of a new Arl of Denerim. It had taken Alistair a number of days and countless discussions with his wife and friends before he came up with his suggestion. Though the ultimate decision would be made by the gathered nobles, Alistair was fairly certain it would be approved … though not without some controversy, perhaps.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would highly recommend due to her service to Ferelden throughout the years as well as her ability to survive treachery and betrayal, the approval of Lady Eleanor Cousland, former Teyrna of Highever, as the next Arlessa of Denerim."

When he had first proposed the idea to Lady Eleanor, Alistair had been met with surprise and a flat out refusal. And while both Lysette and Fergus had spoken with their mother regarding the idea, it had been Rory Gilmore's quiet assurances that he and Myra both would be with her during her tenure that had finally convinced the woman to agree. With the king's full knowledge and approval of this, Eleanor agreed to take on the title of Arlessa.

And to Alistair's complete amazement, the Landsmeet unanimously agreed with the idea. As business finally concluded, the Landsmeet was declared closed and would be officially adjourned following the execution of Vaughan Kendells in several days time, at which point the nobles would be free to leave the city.

Several evenings later, Alistair and Alfstanna held a private dinner for all who had been involved in the investigation and hunt for those involved in the scheme and who were still in Denerim. It was a chance for the royal couple to extend their personal thanks to each one of them individually. It also gave Alfstanna a chance to meet with both Violette and Clare. While the queen hoped to retain their services at the palace, Alfstanna understood that both women had their lives now leading them in different directions. Both women did agree, however, that should their services be required, they would be but within shouting distance and all she need do would be to contact them and they would be quick to respond.

Afterwards, Alistair led his wife towards their rooms, his arm firmly settled around her waist. "So," he murmured as they walked along, his focus on both his words and his steps (could a king  _have_  too much to drink? he wondered), "thinking you might like this queenship thing?"

Alfstanna giggled, leaning into his shoulder as they walked. She'd limited herself to a glass or two, but apparently her husband had taken things just a bit further. On the other hand, they had much to celebrate, so she found she could not blame him. "Perhaps," she agreed, elbowing him lightly in his stomach, giggling again when she heard him yip out a protest.

Rubbing his abdomen in an over-exaggerated manner, Alistair squeezed Alfstanna just a bit more tightly than necessary, grinning when she squeaked. "I think we'll make a good team," he finally told her, sobering up just a bit as they entered their room.

Alfstanna turned to face him, catching his hand in her own after he closed the door behind them. Pulling him into the room and over towards the bed, she laughed as he fell down upon the mattress beside her. "That we do, husband," she agreed, moving to lie down and face him. "That we do indeed." And now, they would have that chance to be together as a team in whatever varied adventures that life and duty would bring them.


End file.
